Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 10.6

Whether the Universe is a concourse of atoms, or Nature is a system, let this first be established, that I am a part of the whole that is governed by Nature.

Next, I am in a manner intimately related to the parts that are of the same kind with myself. For remembering this, inasmuch as I am a part, I shall be discontented with none of the things that are assigned to me out of the whole.

For nothing is injurious to the part if it is for the advantage of the whole.

For the whole contains nothing which is not for its advantage; and all natures indeed have this common principle, but the Nature of the Universe has this principle besides, that it cannot be compelled even by any external cause to generate anything harmful to itself.

By remembering, then, that I am a part of such a whole, I shall be content with everything that happens. And inasmuch as I am in a manner intimately related to the parts which are of the same kind with myself, I shall do nothing unsocial, but I shall rather direct myself to the things that are of the same kind with myself, and I shall turn all my efforts to the common interest, and divert them from the contrary.

Now, if these things are done so, life must flow on happily, just as you may observe that the life of a citizen is happy, who continues a course of action that is advantageous to his fellow citizens, and is content with whatever the state may assign to him.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 10.6 (tr Long)

Whatever philosophy speaks to you the most, or whatever system you may subscribe to, please consider that our entire world, absolutely all of it, is completely one. It is not many realities, but one reality. There is no “yours” or “mine”, only “ours”.

We will often hear how a support for the whole sometimes requires the rejection of the part. They tell us that some must lose, so that many more may win. If the majority benefits, it is quite acceptable if the minority suffers.

This always troubled me when I was younger, but I assumed it was just because I was one of the losers. I began to just accept that state of affairs, where I needed to come to terms with the fact that I was disposable, a piece of residue, something thrown into the trash after my betters had their way.

The Roman Catholic faith I was raised with taught me that every life was worthy and dignified, but that is hardly what I saw in practice. The important priests were happy when you paid them their tithes and flattered them, but then they looked the other way when you were in need. I would come to church to find God, only to find that there was quite the entry fee.

This wasn’t what Christ taught, but then again, Jesus was a poor carpenter; they wouldn’t have given him the time of day either, if he came to them for support and comfort.

In religion, we assume that the institution matters more than the members. I once was shocked to see an old fellow removed from a Mass by ushers, who were all local cops, because there were complaints about his scraggly appearance and his body odor. Clearly, it offended the better folks.

In business, we assume that the institution matters more than the members. I once saw a CEO, worth many millions of dollars, suddenly fire the five most recent employees, on the grounds that the company could only make its optimal profits by quickly cutting some costs. Clearly, the masters ruled over the slaves.

In education, we assume that the institution matters more than the members. I once listened, in complete horror, to a Dean explaining that it was best to close a less popular academic program, leaving about a dozen students unable to complete a degree. It was, he said, about making a statement to improve the school’s status and reputation. Clearly, the image trumped the actual people.

In government, we assume that the institution matters more than the members. I once had a client who had filled out a form incorrectly, and was then told that he was ineligible for any assistance, because a certain deadline had passed. A bureaucrat at Health and Human Services told me that this was unfortunate, but that the system only worked when we excluded the slackers.

One is only comfortable with that sort of thinking if one is at the giving end, not at the receiving end.

I am not really bright, or gifted, or important, but I did start to wonder: shouldn’t it be for all of us, and not just for some of us? Perhaps I am a loser by the standards of an uncaring society, but do I have to be a loser by the standards of Nature?

How, I thought, can the whole even function at all, if some of the parts are allowed to whither? We all rise together, and we all fall together. If it is really good for the whole, it will have to be good for all the parts, each and every one.

Each of those events troubled me deeply, but I began to see that complaining about them would never make them go away. I also saw that I could choose to be a social animal, and not a selfish animal, and that any solution began with me. Do you wish to dispose of others? Do you think that the ends always justify the means? Perhaps I can’t convince you otherwise, but I know that I will never live in that way. I will not be like you.

I will gladly suffer what happens to me, if I can only employ it to make myself better. I will not, however, remain silent if you think that some people are more important than others. All of us matter, each and every one, and I have also learned that I matter, in however humble a way.

You may say I am a loser, but Nature gave all of us the gifts to win in this life. I choose to define winning very differently than you. Break one piece, and the entire machine will fall apart. Anything else is a contradiction in terms, and an affront to Nature.

Written in 1/2009