Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 10.1

Will you, then, my soul, never be good and simple and one and naked, more manifest than the body that surrounds you?

Will you never enjoy an affectionate and contented disposition? Will you never be full and without a want of any kind, longing for nothing more, nor desiring anything, either animate or inanimate, for the enjoyment of pleasures? Nor yet desiring time wherein you shall have longer enjoyment, or place, or pleasant climate, or society of men with whom you may live in harmony?

But will you be satisfied with your present condition, and pleased with all that is about you, and will you convince yourself that you have everything, and that it comes from the gods, that everything is well for you, and will be well whatever shall please them, and whatever they shall give for the conservation of the Perfect Living Being, the good and just and beautiful, which generates and holds together all things, and contains and embraces all things which are dissolved for the production of other like things?

Will you never be such that you shall so dwell in community with gods and men as neither to find fault with them at all, nor to be condemned by them?

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 10.1 (tr Long)

Notice how many of the things we say make us happy are things we do not yet possess, but hope that we one day might.

Notice how our chances of possessing them depend so largely on the odds of circumstance, and on the whims of others.

Notice how even if we do manage to come into contact with them, our hold on them is always tenuous, and we are prone to losing them at any given moment.

That sounds more like a way of assuring that I will be miserable instead of happy! I have often found that a sure-fire sign of someone who is quite unhappy is that he will be restless, and angry, and unkind to his fellows; if that describes a big sweeps of my own life, I clearly haven’t been doing it right.

So I wonder why I have overlooked the most obvious solution, that I already have within me everything I need to be happy, and that I do not have to conquer anything else.

Then my anxiety slips away, and so my resentment fades, and so I no longer have to be hateful to the people I should love. I can then be just, because I am not confusing the struggle of wanting more with the contentment of needing less.

Stoic thinking can be quite profound in theory, but the actual application of Stoic living is a truly powerful tool. I have often been mesmerized by people who speak so well, and present themselves with such confidence and charm, even as the lives they live are really no different from being the usual slaves to pleasure, reputation, or wages. A Stoic Turn might not be appealing to everyone, but it most certainly can’t be merely cosmetic; it requires cutting right to the bone.

I now squirm a little when I hear that usual mantra: “Work to get the things you want, so that one day you can be happy!” No, I should work with the natural gifts I already have, and be happy right now, at this very moment, whatever situations I have faced, am now facing, or may eventually face.

Nothing outside of me is ever guaranteed, and no year, month, day, or even hour in the future is ever guaranteed. What is, however, absolutely guaranteed is the option to know the truth, love the good, and revel in the beautiful, right here and now.

Only then, in harmony with Nature, with Nature’s God, and with all of my neighbors, have I achieved anything certain, and only then have I moved beyond longing, conflict, and blame. This will manifest itself in small and unassuming ways, and has no need to overwhelm or impress. It is never necessary for any one man to fail so that another man can gain.

It all requires a complete rebuilding of what I consider a win or a loss, a benefit or a harm; there is no failure if I do not fail my own calling to character.

Written in 1/2009