Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.33

It is your duty to order your life well in every single act; and if every act does its duty as far as is possible, be content; and no one is able to hinder you so that each act shall not do its duty.

“But something external will stand in the way!”

Nothing will stand in the way of your acting justly, and soberly, and considerately.

“But perhaps some other active power will be hindered!”

Well, but by acquiescing in the hindrance and by being content to transfer your efforts to that which is allowed, another opportunity of action is immediately put before you, in place of that which was hindered, and one which will adapt itself to this ordering of which we are speaking.

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

When I was teaching a junior high school class, I had a student who was quite a handful. I once sat down with him and his mother, and I suggested that just because he felt angry or offended by something, didn’t mean he needed to lash out, to insult others, or to push them around.

“Maybe if someone has treated you poorly, you could teach him a lesson, not by punching him in the mouth, but by treating him well?”

The young fellow grew red in the face. “What the f@#k does that mean?”

The mother was a bit more civilized about it, and scolded him for his foul language, but said something much the same. “How can you expect him to control how he feels?”

I could hardly hope that the kids would bother to think, when the adults who told me what to do would also not bother to think.

I suspect I knew right there and then that I was never going to find any real acceptance as a teacher. It was only going to be a matter of time before I would end up on the chopping block, for boldly suggesting that the act of suffering what was wrong was never an excuse for doing what was wrong.

I struggle with this challenge as much as any fellow. I may use my environment as an excuse to behave poorly, and I may say that I had to do it, or that I was given no other choice, or that I was made to act as I did. One of my favorite pathetic phrases is “I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

And even as I say it, I know that I am deceiving myself. I don’t have to do anything, I am always given a choice, and no one else makes me act in any way at all. If it is the right thing to do, I should proceed without hesitation. If it is the wrong thing to do, I should stop immediately. That is hardly difficult, even as I make it difficult for myself, because I wish to dodge my own responsibility.

There is no obstacle to living a good life, not a single one, except my own judgment. There is no reason at all for me not to love, or to accept, or to show sympathy, except my own judgment. I am a creature of reason, and therefore of free will. I order my own actions.

If someone stands in the way of my action, he may well alter the external consequence, but he has not in any way altered my internal disposition.

If someone takes away my very power to act upon what is outside of me, he may well hinder the effect, but he has in no way hindered the righteousness of the cause.

Yes, if I offer you the hand of friendship, you may cut off my hand. Yet I have still chosen to offer friendship. Yes, if I give you my heart, you may well break it. Yet I have still chosen to give you my heart.

As long as I have life and awareness, I am my own master. Take away my life and awareness, and you have killed me, but even how I face that very loss, at that last moment, is still within my power.

I once said something similar to my daughter, when she was only at the tender age of nine, while we she sat with me in our yard.

“So bad guys never really win?” she asked curiously.

I puffed at my pipe for a moment to get my answer right. The smoking of a pipe offers that wonderful benefit of reflection. “Maybe on their terms, but never on your terms.”

I hope she will get that. It took me most of my life to get that. 

Written in 3/2016