Boethius, The Consolation 3.11

. . . “Now I would have you consider the matter thus, that you may recognize how true veneration cannot be won through these shadowy honors. If a man who had filled the office of consul many times in Rome, came by chance into a country of barbarians, would his high position make him venerated by the barbarians? Yet if this were a natural quality in such dignities, they would never lose their effective function in any land, just as fire is never anything but hot in all countries.

“But since they do not receive this quality of veneration from any force peculiar to themselves, but only from a connection in the untrustworthy opinions of men, they become as nothing as soon as they are among those who do not consider these dignities as such.

“But is that only in the case of foreign peoples? Among the very peoples where they had their beginnings, do these dignities last forever? Consider how great was the power in Rome of old of the office of Præfect; now it is an empty name and a heavy burden upon the income of any man of Senator's rank. The præfect then, who was commissioner of the corn-market, was held to be a great man. Now there is no office more despised. For, as I said before, that which has no intrinsic beauty, sometimes receives a certain glory, sometimes loses it, according to the opinion of those who are concerned with it.

“If then high offices cannot make men venerated, if furthermore they grow vile by the infection of bad men, if changes of time can end their glory, and, lastly, if they are held cheaply in the estimation of whole peoples, I ask you, so far from affording true beauty to men, what beauty have they in themselves that men can desire?”

—from Book 3, Prose 4

Both life and art are full of examples of the fish out of water, the man unexpectedly pulled from his environment. Sometimes hilarity ensues, and sometimes it is followed by tragedy, but each and every time it teaches us quite an important lesson, that who we are is far more than the sum of our circumstances.

Yet we still tell ourselves that we are defined by our accidents, and we continue to neglect the substance. The man who is so greatly esteemed may think this reflects very well on him, until all his admirers are gone, and the whole house of cards collapses. He was once someone, and now he sees that he is no one. He thought honor could provide a permanent happiness, and then he learns, perhaps too late, that it is fleeting and changeable.

Take a fancy corporate lawyer from Boston, and put him in a farm town in Kansas. He has now gone from being the cock of the walk to being the local laughing stock. Take that tough Texas country sheriff, the pillar of his community who sits in the front pew of his church, and drop him in New York City. Once everyone deferred to him, but now no one gives him a second glance.

The grasping man will be lost when he is outside of his comfort zone, while the good man will continue being what he already was within himself, regardless of who may or may not notice. Fame takes on many faces, even as virtue stays the same.

What is admired in one place is ignored in another, what is venerated at one time is cursed at another. Even as I might be convinced that my position and status do me credit, they only mirror the opinions of others, opinions that can and will change with the breeze. Once I have lost my admiration society, what is there that is left of me? What I thought was the strength of my own merit is actually being held up by the support of others. The throne is more like a crutch.

I knew a well-respected Catholic priest back in Boston, who was considered quite an authority on many of the trendy philosophical issues of the day. When I was teaching at a school out in America’s heartland, he asked if he could stop by and give a lecture as part of a book tour he was doing. We told him he would be most welcome, but he hesitated when he saw what we could offer as payment from our budget.

“Don’t people there know who I am? I think I deserve better than that!”

I was given the uncomfortable task of explaining to him that no, most people here didn’t know who he was, and I jokingly added that perhaps he could think of it as chance to convince his listeners by the truth of what he said, instead of just overwhelming them with his credentials.

Needless to say, he flew over us on his way to California, where he had more of a following.

What I say and do expresses something about me, and what others say and do expresses something about them. Let me not confuse the one with the other. Even when rank is earned, it still does not take the place of one’s own character.

I try not to be cynical about the whims of politics, or the latest fashion, or intellectual trends, for example, but notice how often the flavor of the month is on the discount shelf before you know it. Being popular never makes something true, or good, or beautiful. 

Written in 9/2015

Dhammapada 32

A Bhikshu, a mendicant, who delights in reflection, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, cannot fall away from his perfect state—he is close upon Nirvana.

Marillion, "Don't Hurt Yourself"

As a reference for Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.43:

Marillion, Don't Hurt Yourself", from Marbles (2004)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3_GMYStFSQ

There'll come a time when all of this is over
Something else will grow and take it's place
The brand new car: scrap metal in a junkyard
The children playing will grow up and leave home
Put it away this dream you can't stop dreaming
Put it away this anger and desire
The open road is infinitely hopeful
Take all those memories and throw them in the fire

And don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore

There's an old man on a warm and sunny island
No job, no money, just a smile to call his own
Know what he says?. "The past will only haunt you.
Live for today. Each day's an open door.

Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore"

Nothing to lose is nothing to fight over
The shining stars!
They've seen it all before.

Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore

Dust keeps coming. Rust keeps coming. Weeds keep growing.
Where you going?

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.43

It is not fit that I should give myself pain, for I have never intentionally given pain even to another.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

This passage gave me some trouble when I first read it, because I was assuming it was obvious that I shouldn’t give myself pain, and I was also assuming it seemed rather silly to claim that one has never chosen to give pain to others. I was misunderstanding what it means to cause pain, and the reasons why I might end up causing it.

After all, I always seemed to be making the mistake of taking too much care of myself, and not caring enough for others, and I could think of all sorts of instances where I was trying to maximize my own pleasure as well as seeking to hurt my fellows. But then I realized that I quite often end up hurting myself even as I intend to help myself, and whenever I am doing something bad to another, my thinking is still somehow, in however perverse a way, aimed at doing some sort of good.

I end up doing harm to myself and to others, even as I am intending to be of benefit. I do bad because I am ignorant of the good. My ignorance, whether willful or not, is the root cause of my vice, by twisting and distorting my sense of what is right. As odd as it seems, my clouded thinking will perceive pain as pleasure, or insist that hurting is helping.

The remedy is in choosing to see my thoughts and deeds for what they really are, and recognizing how misguided I can truly be when I confuse a vice for a virtue.

And even though I might not completely understand what I’m doing, I manage to hurt myself all the time. In fact, when I do wrong I’m actually hurting myself the most, because while I might injure the goods of the body of another, I am a doing even worse by injuring the goods of my own soul.

I notice how delusional I become, telling myself over and over that something is making me better, when it is only making me worse. If it’s really so great, why am I just as miserable as I was before? Lust, and laziness, and deception, and anger may appear quite satisfying, but they are simply self-destructive. I may be calling it love and pride, but I am only filled with hatred and shame.

“Don’t hurt yourself” sounds like silly advice, but it is one of the most necessary pieces of wisdom I need to hear, because I don’t really even know how much I’m hurting myself at all. I need to take of that blindfold of ignorance. I can only take care of myself when I understand what it really means to care.

Written in 4/2008

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 75

If you have given way to anger, know that over and above the evil involved therein, you have also strengthened the habit, and added fuel to the fire. 

If overcome by a temptation of the flesh, do not reckon it a single defeat, but that you have also strengthened your dissolute habits. 

Habits and faculties are necessarily affected by the corresponding acts. Those that were not there before, spring up; the rest gain in strength and extent. 

This is the account that Philosophers give of the origin of diseases of the mind. Suppose you have once lusted after money. If reason sufficient to produce a sense of evil be applied, then the lust is checked, and the mind at once regains its original authority, whereas if you have recourse to no remedy, you can no longer look for this return. 

On the contrary, the next time it is excited by the corresponding object, the flame of desire leaps up more quickly than before. By frequent repetition, the mind in the long run becomes callous; and thus this mental disease produces confirmed avarice. 
 
One who has had a fever, even when it has left him, is not in the same condition of health as before, unless indeed his cure is complete. Something of the same sort is true also of diseases of the mind. Behind, there remains a legacy of traces and blisters, and unless these are effectually erased, subsequent blows on the same spot will produce no longer mere blisters, but sores. 

If you do not wish to be prone to anger, do not feed the habit; give it nothing which may tend its increase. At first, keep quiet and count the days when you were not angry: "I used to be angry every day, then every other day, next every two, next every three days!" 

And if you succeed in passing thirty days, sacrifice to the Gods in thanksgiving. 

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.42

Hindrance to the perceptions of sense is an evil to the animal nature. Hindrance to the movements of the desires is equally an evil to the animal nature. And something else also is equally an impediment and an evil to the constitution of plants.

So then that which is a hindrance to the intelligence is an evil to the intelligent nature. Apply all these things then to yourself. Does pain or sensuous pleasure affect you? The senses will look to that.

Has any obstacle opposed you in your efforts towards an object? If indeed you were making this effort absolutely, unconditionally, or without any reservation, certainly this obstacle is an evil to you considered as a rational animal.

But if you take into consideration the usual course of things, you have not yet been injured, nor even impeded. The things, however, that are proper to the understanding no other man is able to impede, for neither fire, nor iron, nor tyrant, nor abuse, touches it in any way.

When it has been made a sphere, it continues a sphere.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

I understand and accept that Stoic thinking and living are hardly going to be all that popular. I’m not so arrogant as to think that this is because most people can’t do it, since if even I can get a start at it then anyone can, but rather because most people simply don’t want to do it. Our habits will tell us that everything worthwhile in life is to be found outside of us. We are accustomed to thinking that what we possess makes us better and happier, whether it be money, or pleasure, or reputation, and so we define ourselves by everything except ourselves.

The whole model of Stoicism can come across as quite ridiculous to our common sensibilities, especially when a Stoic says something as preposterous as “You cannot defeat me.”

“Of course I can defeat you! I can block your way. I can take your property. I can ruin your name. I can lock you up. I can even kill you.”

Yes, perhaps those things are sometimes within your power to control, but you will find that they are outside of your grasp as often as they are within it. Your fortune will change as quickly, and as easily, as mine.

Most importantly, however, you will also find that one thing always remains beyond your power. Whatever circumstance you put me in, my judgment remains my own. Alter the state of my body, of my senses, of my feelings, but only I can choose to alter the state of my thinking.

If I only so decide, your efforts will be in vain, and you are only giving me the chance to develop a better soul, while you do harm to your own soul. Here, let us instead become better together.

The senses can be hindered, and the desires can be denied, and the body can be chained, but the mind remains free.

Does this mean that the mind has absolute power to do whatever it wills? Of course not. It may not have the power to make the body immortal, or turn lead into gold, or charm someone into undying love. Just because something can be dreamed, does not necessarily mean it can be achieved.

What does, however, always remain within the sphere of the mind is the mastery over itself. I remind myself that this is always my own, even as situations come and go around me. Even how long I will live is not for me to decide, but how well I live while I live is entirely my own business.

The sphere need never give way, or surrender the dignity that is enclosed within it. 

Written in 4/2008 

IMAGE: M.C. Escher, Hand With Reflecting Sphere (1935) 

The Mute Gods, "Tardigrades Will Inherit the Earth"

I hardly knew if there was any profound Stoic message here when I first heard the tune. I just knew that this was an incredible song, accompanied by an incredible video. It caught my fancy right away.

What do we all assume is the proper way to live, while never considering the real order and meaning behind all things, and all of what we are doing to ourselves, and what all of it will ultimately become?

I take it back. Put that way, it can actually have quite a profound Stoic message.

My daughter immediately asked, "Why are they just doing things like cooking and cleaning? Why are their heads covered in mirrored cubes?"

She thought for a moment, and then answered her own question. "Wait, I get it! There's nothing inside them! Everything they are is just a reflection of the empty world around them!"

From the mouths of babes. . .

The Mute Gods, "Tardigrades Will Inherit the Earth", from Tardigrades Will Inherit the Earth (2017)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlmmvkV5olE

You and I
Are only here for a little while
So let's TV shop
And fall in love
Build a house
Just big enough

Before the tardigrades inherit the Earth
Check it

We sit at home
Celebrating Christmas
Use the telephone
Let's make a child
Take some photographs
Put them in an album
Hey, let's have some laughs

Before the tardigrades inherit the Earth
Check it

Tardigrades will inherit the Earth

And now we look much older
Older than we've ever been
Have much pension
Hair-replacement therapy
Walks in the park
With grandchildren
And this is what we tell them

Tardigrades will inherit the Earth
Check it

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 1.4

Of prudence in action

1. We must not trust every word of others or feeling within ourselves, but cautiously and patiently try the matter, whether it be of God. Unhappily we are so weak that we find it easier to believe and speak evil of others, rather than good. But they that are perfect, do not give ready heed to every news-bearer, for they know man's weakness that it is prone to evil and unstable in words.

2. This is great wisdom, not to be hasty in action, or stubborn in our own opinions. A part of this wisdom also is not to believe every word we hear, nor to tell others all that we hear, even though we believe it. Take counsel with a man who is wise and of a good conscience; and seek to be instructed by one better than yourself, rather than to follow your own inventions. A good life makes a man wise toward God, and gives him experience in many things. The more humble a man is in himself, and the more obedient towards God, the wiser will he be in all things, and the more shall his soul be at peace.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.41

If you take away your opinion about that which appears to give you pain, you yourself stand in perfect security.

“Who is this self?”

The reason.

“But I am not reason.”

Be it so. Let then the reason itself not trouble itself. But if any other part of you suffers, let it have its own opinion about itself.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

When I wake in the morning, I will often feel intense emotional pain. I open my eyes, and I immediately feel flooded by a deep sense of loss. I do not choose the pain as it comes over me.

When I wake in the morning, I will also often feel intense physical pain. I open my eyes, and I am immediately grabbed by sharp stabbing in my chest. I do not choose that pain either as it comes over me.

If I did not have recourse to my own Stoic attitude, I am fairly certain either one of these circumstances alone would take me down. Both together would be completely unbearable. Yet as it stands, even if I cannot make the pain disappear in either my emotions or my body, I can choose what I am going to make of it in my thinking.

This ability not only allows me to live, but also, more often than not, for my life to be something more than clinging to the edge. The best way for me to describe it is learning to put pain in its place. This means not allowing it to take over, but it also means not being so foolish as to pretend it doesn’t exist. By all means, let pain act upon all the parts of me that are not reason, but at the same time let the part that is reason, the ruling part, understand that nothing must impose upon it if I do not permit it to do so.

The power of judgment is such that I can decide what anything means to me, and so I can determine how deeply I will allow myself to be affected by this or that feeling. I don’t think of this as a denial, but more as a sort of bracketing. I can have a healthy respect, knowing what something can do to my flesh and emotions, but I also can know I do not have to let it go any further than that.

In the simplest of terms, a pain within the body does not need to become a despair within the mind. The mind, through its distinct nature, can rise above this.

I would be a fool to say that I am just the sum of my emotions, and it is sadly that sort of approach that would allow me to go under whenever something hurts. Yet I would also be a fool to say that I am just a mind, denying the reality of all my other aspects. Accept each for what it is, but do not allow one to intrude upon the proper place of the other.

The power of the mind to have its judgment of “yes” or “no” to be absolute over itself is quite an amazing thing. It doesn’t proceed from brute strength, or extraordinary willpower, or violent conflict, but rather from just knowing that there is something within me that is always completely invulnerable to anything out there. Because mind rules itself, it rules what it permits into itself.

The pain may be there, but it does not have to be here. I will sometimes repeat a silly little phrase to myself, that a broken heart, whether literally or figuratively, doesn’t need to also be a broken head. 

Written in 10/2016

Tao Te Ching 17

In the highest antiquity, the people did not know that there were their rulers.

In the next age they loved them and praised them.

In the next they feared them.

In the next they despised them. 

Thus it was that when faith in the Tao was deficient in the rulers, a want of faith in them ensued in the people.

How irresolute did those earliest rulers appear, showing by their reticence the importance which they set upon their words! 

Their work was done and their undertakings were successful, while the people all said, 'We are as we are, of ourselves!'

Ecclesiastes 1:16-18

[16] I said to myself, "I have acquired great wisdom, surpassing all who were over Jerusalem before me; and my mind has had great experience of wisdom and knowledge."
[17] And I applied my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is but a striving after wind.
[18] For in much wisdom is much vexation,
and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.

Friendship

To be abandoned by another is not necessarily a curse. Sometimes it is a blessing.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.40

In the constitution of the rational animal, I see no virtue that is opposed to justice; but I see a virtue that is opposed to love of pleasure, and that is temperance.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

I’m not certain if Marcus Aurelius directly intends a dig at the Epicureans here, those Ancients who defined pleasure as the highest good, but I do know that I can relate to his point immediately.

I have never gone wrong by caring for the dignity of another, while I have very often gone wrong by only wanting to be satisfied. Instead of being good, I merely wanted to feel good. The difference is not a play on words; it reflects one of the most fundamental choices I must make.

This fellow is dragging me down, and he is cramping my style. This girl asks for too much, and is interfering with my plan of life. All these folks, here and there, are just getting in the way of my gratification. So I will dispose of them, because my sense of justice only goes as far as my convenience.

That makes me a grasping man, unwilling to temper my passions, and as a consequence it makes me a user and abuser of others. Even as I decide not to rule myself, I am happy to rule my fellows, and I think it right to cast aside the very people I am called to love.

Make me the king over my neighbor, I demand, instead of his servant, oblivious to the fact that I have made myself a slave to my lust, instead of its master.

Decency and respect for others never have any conditions attached to them in order to be good, even as wants and passions must always be conditioned by the measure of virtue. Justice never needs to be tempered, while longing must constantly be tempered.

I am learning that ordering my greed is not a burden. It is a liberation. Once I can think for myself, I am no longer chained to feelings alone, and I can also show reverence to others, simply for their own sake.

This extends to letting go of resentment when others don’t treat me fairly. I should practice fairness at all costs, with no requirement beyond that in return.

It doesn’t have to just be about me, and what I want. It can be about us, and what we all need. 

Written in 4/2008

IMAGE: Benjamin West, The Choice of Hercules Between Virtue and Pleasure (1764)

The Art of Peace 6

The Art of Peace functions everywhere on earth, in realms ranging from the vastness of space down to the tiniest plants and animals. The life force is all-pervasive and its strength boundless. The Art of Peace allows us to perceive and tap into that tremendous reserve of universal energy.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.39

If you can see precisely, look and judge wisely, says the philosopher.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

When I look within myself, I shamefully recognize that I have far too often failed at sound thinking, and so I have accordingly also failed at good living. These two must go together, for without clarity of understanding there can be no right purpose in action.

My thinking doesn’t have to involve rocket science, or profound metaphysics, or proceed from any sort of fancy education. It has nothing to do with how smart or gifted I am, but with how thoughtful and careful I am. It’s something like the difference between being intelligent, which I could take or leave, and being considerate, which I can’t live without.

I remain convinced there are really just two things any of us need to have a firm grasp on in order to be happy, and they are hardly concerned with secrets revealed only to the privileged and the elect. First, what is my nature as a human being? Second, what must I be doing in order to fulfill that nature?

Everything, absolutely everything from the most life-changing decisions to the smallest gesture or comment, hinges on how we are going to answer these questions. If my vision is clouded, or my decisions are lazy and careless, I’m going to make quite the mess of it. Trust me, I speak from personal experience.

Who am I? I am a creature of many aspects, one that grows, eats, sleeps, moves, senses, has desires and instincts, and feels pleasure and pain. But most of all, behind all of that, I am a creature capable of knowledge, reflection, and choice. It is the ruling part that gives meaning to the parts that are ruled.

How should I live? To act according to that nature, I must know that my own actions should encourage my own excellence, and the excellence of others, and the excellence of all things, all in their own way. As a being of intellect it is only my wisdom that will make it possible for me to be brave, temperate, and just.

If I am made to know the truth and love the good, let me commit to that. All the rest is quite secondary. I need only ask myself what is within my power to give, and not try to control what I may or may not receive.

Yet in the face of this call to clarity, which is really rather simple and asks for no trimmings or accessories, I can become quite mentally myopic. I choose to look no further than my own passion, and I allow my judgment to surrender to selfish longing. I become a sort of philosophical and moral Alfred E. Neuman: “What, me worry?”

Lazy looking, sloppy thinking, and poor choices come not from stupidity, however, but from thoughtlessness. I have always seen a difference between these two. I should never look down on someone who can’t do something, but I should be quite wary of someone who won’t do something.

Written in 4/2008

Dhammapada 31

A Bhikshu, a mendicant, who delights in earnestness, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, moves about like fire, burning all his fetters, small or large.

Forgiveness

Boethius, The Consolation 3.10

. . . “But,” I urged, “places of honor make the man, to whom they fall, honored and venerated.”

“Ah!” she answered, “have those offices their force in truth that they may instill virtues into the minds of those that hold them, and drive out vices from there? And yet we are too well accustomed to see them making wickedness conspicuous rather than avoiding it. Wherefore we are displeased to see such places often falling to the most wicked of men, so that Catullus called Nonius ‘a diseased growth,’ though he sat in the highest chair of office.

“Do you see how great a disgrace high honors can add to evil men? Their unworthiness is less conspicuous if they are not made famous by honors. Could you yourself have been induced by any dangers to think of being a colleague with Decoratus, when you saw that he had the mind of an unscrupulous buffoon, and a base informer? We cannot consider men worthy of veneration on account of their high places, when we hold them to be unworthy of those high places.

“But if you see a man endowed with wisdom, you cannot but consider him worthy of veneration, or at least of the wisdom with which he is endowed. For such a man has the worth peculiar to virtue, which it transmits directly to those in whom it is found.

“But since honors from the vulgar crowd cannot create merit, it is plain that they have not the peculiar beauty of this worth. And here is a particular point to be noticed: if men are the more worthless as they are despised by more people, high position makes them all the worse because it cannot make venerable those whom it shows to so many people to be contemptible. And this brings its penalty with it: wicked people bring a like quality into their positions, and stain them with their infection.” . . .

—from Book 3, Prose 4

The various incomplete and false goods we tend to seek can be related in a number of ways, sometimes in conjunction with one another, at other times with one in service to another, but my own experience suggests that no two idols are more closely allied than the pursuit of wealth and the pursuit of position.

Note how often we see riches and honor mingled together, perhaps because we admire those who have much, or we give much to those we admire. Show me a man of status, and you have most likely also shown me a man of money. This characterized the careerism I saw around me as I was growing up, the promise that the more I acquire the more important I will be, and the more important I am the more I will acquire.

But surely honor is nobler than merely having many possessions? After all, a man can inherit his wealth, or stumble across it without it being due to his merit, but it would seem that respect is something that we truly have to earn.

This assumes, however, far too confidently, that we are receiving respect for the right sorts of reasons, or from the right sorts of people. As unpleasant as it may seem, the school of life teaches us that vice is praised more often than virtue, and vicious people usually speak their minds more forcefully than virtuous people.

Indeed, honor will hardly make a man any better, and it is likely to make him worse if he has received it out of ignorance or wickedness. We should rightly honor people because they are good, but people don’t become good because they are honored. As with the priority and order in so many things, we get the more important and less important all jumbled up.

Let’s say I could be hated for being a man of poor character, or I could conversely be loved for being a man of poor character. Which of these would actually be worse? I imagine some people would say they would prefer at least to be admired instead of being despised, but this overlooks the very measure of good and evil in our thoughts, words, and deeds. The latter is actually far more harmful than former.

As soon as honor is joined with vice, it makes the recipient worse, because it encourages his misdeeds. It makes the admirers worse, because they have allowed themselves to be influenced by all that is wrong. It makes the office of honor itself worse, because it has sullied the dignity of the position.

I’ll never find virtue separated from wisdom, since one cannot choose what is good without first knowing what is good. But I will often find virtue separated from honor, since being good is not the same as just being thought of as good. 

Written in 9/2015

IMAGE: Putting my face in the middle of this picture will make me no better, and could quite possibly make me much worse.

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 74

"The question at stake," said Epictetus, "is no common one, and it is this: Are we in our senses, or are we not?"

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.38

Do Panthea or Fergamus now sit by the tomb of Verus? Do Chaurias or Diotimus sit by the tomb of Hadrianus? That would be ridiculous.

Well, suppose they did sit there, would the dead be conscious of it? And if the dead were conscious, would they be pleased? And if they were pleased, would that make them immortal?

Was it not in the order of destiny that these persons too should first become old women and old men and then die? What then would those do after these were dead?

All this is foul smell and blood in a bag.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

I saw much of death and dying when I was young, and I was often puzzled by the way we try to venerate those who have passed away. I was not so cynical as to assume any sinister motives, but I did wonder why we so often pay more attention to people when they are dead than when they were alive. Was the benefit intended for them, or was it a way to assist ourselves with the acceptance of loss?

At times it would even make me angry. I felt resentful when dozens of people attended my great-grandmother’s funeral, even as she had sat alone so many times in the last years of her life. I had to temper my frustration when many hundreds praised a departed friend, even as she had taken her own life because she felt so lonely.

My anger was hardly justified, of course, and it said more about my own weakness than that of others. Yet when my head was calmer I still asked myself if honoring the departed was a way that we managed our own anxiety about death, and memorializing them was a way to try and sidestep our inevitable mortality.

Marcus Aurelius asks an uncomfortable but necessary question. Do the dead gain any comfort from all our efforts? Does it make them happy to be remembered? Can our devotion make them immortal? If they somehow require this, what will happen after we too are gone?

The Stoics like to remind us that death is not an evil, but a necessary part of Nature. I should not attempt to make something right that isn’t wrong to begin with, and so I am best served by living well instead of trying to conquer dying. Let me certainly feel sadness for a loss, while also understanding that living forever as we are now is not something we are made to do.

In my own thinking, all of this reminds me to show my love for others while they are here, and not wait until they are gone.

A few years back, I sat down with a fellow who had done much to help me make it through some tough times, and had become something of an informal counselor to me. He apologized that he had been unable to be around more often, but explained that his health made it very difficult for him. I pestered him to tell me more, and he quite calmly said that he was dying of cancer, and that doctors had given him another month or two.

I expressed my deep sadness and regret to him, but he suggested that none of that was necessary. He added that he didn’t want an obituary, or a wake, or a funeral, or any sort of gravesite.

“After my life is lived, I don’t want anyone dwelling on it. It’ll hardly matter then!” He gave off a hearty chuckle.

So I try to remember him as I hope he would have wanted, not with a sense of grief, but in ways that can now help me to live well through his example. I was certain to later make the exact same request of my own family, and I was grateful that they understood completely. I try to remember that I can’t take it with me, and that there is no need to try and change anything after the fact. 

Written in 4/2008

Fear

Solitude

Not everyone may experience life in this way, but for those who do, you are not alone!

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 1.3

Of the knowledge of truth

1. Happy is the man whom Truth by itself does teach, not by figures and transient words, but as it is in itself.(1) Our own judgment and feelings often deceive us, and we discern but little of the truth. What does it profit to argue about hidden and dark things, concerning which we shall not be even reproved in the Judgment, because we knew them not? Oh, grievous folly, to neglect the things that are profitable and necessary, and to give our minds to things which are curious and hurtful! Having eyes, we see not.

2. And what have we to do with talk about genus and species! He to whom the Eternal Word speaks is free from multiplied questionings. From this One Word are all things, and all things speak of Him; and this is the Beginning which also speaks unto us.(2) No man without Him understands or rightly judges. The man to whom all things are one, who brings all things to one, who sees all things in one, he is able to remain steadfast of spirit, and at rest in God. O God, who is the Truth, make me one with You in everlasting love. It wearies me oftentimes to read and listen to many things; in You is all that I wish for and desire. Let all the doctors hold their peace; let all creation keep silence before You. Speak You alone to me.

3. The more a man has unity and simplicity in himself, the more things and the deeper things he understands; and that without labor, because he receives the light of understanding from above. The spirit which is pure, sincere, and steadfast, is not distracted though it has many works to do, because it does all things to the honor of God, and strives to be free from all thoughts of self-seeking. Who is so full of hindrance and annoyance to you as your own undisciplined heart? A man who is good and devout arranges beforehand within his own heart the works which he has to do abroad; and so is not drawn away by the desires of his evil will, but subjects everything to the judgment of right reason. Who has a harder battle to fight than he who strives for self-mastery? And this should be our endeavor, even to master self, and thus daily to grow stronger than self, and go on unto perfection.

4. All perfection has some imperfection joined to it in this life, and all our power of sight is not without some darkness. A lowly knowledge of yourself is a surer way to God than the deep searching of man's learning. Not that learning is to be blamed, nor the taking account of anything that is good; but a good conscience and a holy life is better than all. And because many seek knowledge rather than good living, therefore they go astray, and bear little or no fruit.

5. Oh, if they would give that diligence to the rooting out of vice and the planting of virtue which they give unto vain questionings, there would not be so many evil doings and stumbling-blocks among the laity, nor such ill living among houses of religion. Of a surety, at the Day of Judgment it will be demanded of us, not what we have read, but what we have done; not how well we have spoken, but how holy we have lived. Tell me, where now are all those masters and teachers, whom you knew well, while they were yet with you, and flourished in learning? Their stalls are now filled by others, who perhaps never have one thought concerning them. While they lived they seemed to be somewhat, but now no one speaks of them.

6. Oh, how quickly passes the glory of the world away! Would that their life and knowledge had agreed together! For then would they have read and inquired unto good purpose. How many perish through empty learning in this world, who care little for serving God. And because they love to be great more than to be humble, therefore they "have become vain in their imaginations." He only is truly great, who has great charity. He is truly great who deems himself small, and counts all height of honor as nothing. He is the truly wise man, who counts all earthly things as dung that he may win Christ. And he is the truly learned man, who does the will of God, and forsakes his own will.

(1) Psalm xciv. 12; Numbers xii. 8. (2) John viii. 25 (Vulg.).

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.37

Do not disturb yourself by thinking of the whole of your life. Let not your thoughts at once embrace all the various troubles that you may expect to befall you.

But on every occasion ask yourself, what is there in this that is intolerable and past bearing? For you will be ashamed to confess.

In the next place remember that neither the future nor the past pains you, but only the present.

But this is reduced to a very little, if you only circumscribe it, and chide your mind if it is unable to hold out against even this.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 8 (tr Long)

At any given moment, it can seem that the weight of life becomes unbearable. Memories of the past can haunt us, the pain of the present can seem overwhelming, and concern for the future can fill us with anxiety. I may feel swept away, as if everything is beyond my control, and it is such a sense of helplessness that feeds into the despair of hopelessness.

What we like to think of as a distinctly modern problem, a sort of existential dread, is hardly anything new. Its root, I suggest, is not about the state of world around us at all, but rather about the focus of the thinking within us. Our concern follows from our own judgments, where we choose to give force to things that need not have any power over us at all.

When I am faced with such a burden at any given moment, a helpful exercise is to attend only to that very moment, and to nothing else. What is it that I am confronting right here and now, and what is it that I can do in order to remedy my worry right here and now? Once I have stripped away all my own imaginings, I am left with something quite manageable.

I should not gawk at the full scope of all the things I believe are bringing me down. I should stick to what is immediately at hand, pushing aside the many diversions of my own creation.

The things from my past are no more, and only my own estimation is still allowing them to have any effect upon me. They are long gone, while it is just my own thinking that is giving them substance.

The things in my future are not yet, and only my fretting over possibilities is gnawing at me. They are not yet, while it is just my own thinking that is giving them substance.

The things right now are certainly in front of me, but are they really as imposing as I make them out to be? If I am completely honest with myself, how are they so insurmountable? It is not the situation in itself that threatens me, but only my fear, my longing, my confusion, my insecurity, my nervousness. Those are all from me, and I can put them in their place.

Does my circumstance, however big or small, still allow me the choice to act with virtue, to practice justice, to show compassion, to still do right by myself in the face of something wrong? I must admit that it invariably does. I am the biggest obstacle to that.

Once I know how much of what is unnecessary I have added to the mix, how much baggage I don’t need to be carrying, what seemed so big is actually quite small. It doesn’t take superhuman strength or any brute willpower. The courage to change myself comes only from the simplicity of knowing that only I can harm myself.

I made the dread and horror, so I can also unmake it. 

Written in 4/2008