Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.3

Do not despise death, but be well content with it, since this too is one of those things that Nature wills. For such as it is to be young and to grow old, and to increase and to reach maturity, and to have teeth and beard and gray hairs, and to beget and to be pregnant and to bring forth, and all the other natural operations that the seasons of your life bring, such also is dissolution.

This, then, is consistent with the character of a reflecting man—to be neither careless nor impatient nor contemptuous with respect to death, but to wait for it as one of the operations of Nature. As you now wait for the time when the child shall come out of your wife's womb, so be ready for the time when your soul shall fall out of this envelope.

But if you require also a vulgar kind of comfort which shall reach your heart, you will be made best reconciled to death by observing the objects from which you are going to be removed, and the morals of those with whom your soul will no longer be mingled.

For it is no way right to be offended with men, but it is your duty to care for them and to bear with them gently; and yet to remember that your departure will not be from men who have the same principles as yourself.

For this is the only thing, if there be any, that could draw us the contrary way and attach us to life—to be permitted to live with those who have the same principles as ourselves. But now you see how great is the trouble arising from the discordance of those who live together, so that you may say, “Come quick, O death, lest perchance I, too, should forget myself.”

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 9.3 (tr Long)

Stoicism reminds me to always carefully examine my own thinking, to be aware of the habits that influence how I act, to reflect upon the meaning of what I am feeling. If I am to understand that my happiness will proceed not merely from my circumstances, but from my estimation of circumstances, such introspection is absolutely essential.

The way of the world encourages me to constantly direct my attention outward, at what I can win and acquire out there, but Stoicism is hardly a philosophy that follows the way of the world. The success I am told I must achieve is not the contentment I need.

And when I look inward, I will sometimes come across powerful assumptions I may not even have been entirely aware of, misleading beliefs that hold far more power over me than I am willing to admit.

An illusion I have carried with me for some time, and that I must regularly put in its place, is a desire to go back to a past stage of my life, to do it over again, or to jump ahead to a later stage in life, to move along to a better place. When I was younger, I sometimes wanted to be older, and now that I am older, I sometimes want to be younger. All of it arises from a sense that something was wasted, or that something remains to be done.

This will fill me with feelings of doubt, of regret, of anxiety, of resentment. The way I can overcome this is to remember that where I am right now, in whatever situation I find myself, is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. I must live each stage of my life, however long or short it may be, for its own sake, joyfully accepting that it is beautiful and fitting. To regret the past, or worry for the future, is to foolishly neglect what should be done at this very moment.

Each season of the year, and each age of man, has its rightful place, no one better or worse than the other. This is especially true of facing death, that monstrous beast of all anxieties, that final point where there can be no more clutching at the desperate chance to do it over. It doesn’t need to be done over at all, because everything that passes transforms into something new.

I don’t just need to bear this begrudgingly, but I can embrace it wholeheartedly.

If I still have my doubts, and I need a more base motivation to accept where I am, I can also see how all the things I want to hold on to are not really as pleasant as I may think they are.

I am here to love my neighbor, to help him carry his burden, and to let him know that he is not alone. But quite often my neighbor will not be thinking along the same lines. He will mock me, abuse me, or reject me. Let me do right by him, while also realizing that he will often not do right by me. That is hardly something I should be afraid of leaving behind, now is it?

Each season of the year has its own purpose, and should be appreciated for its own sake, though that does not mean I won’t be happy to leave behind the biting cold of winter, or the scorching heat of summer.

Written in 7/2008

IMAGE: Araki Jippo, Birds and Flowers of the Four Seasons (1917)