Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 11.12

The spherical form of the soul maintains its figure when it is neither extended towards any object, nor contracted inwards, nor dispersed, nor sinks down, but is illuminated by light, by which it sees the truth—the truth of all things and the truth that is in itself.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11.12 (tr Long)

A sphere, in one sense, can be described as an ideal figure, perfectly balanced, its limit always extending the same distance from the center, equally strong throughout all its points, presenting itself in the same way from all angles and perspectives. 

Marcus Aurelius employs the image of the sphere a number of times to express the unity, the simplicity, and the purity of the soul.

Sometimes my soul feels like it has been stretched and dragged out. I have twisted and misshapen my soul, because I have reached out to possess so many things beyond myself.

Sometimes my soul feels like it has collapsed in on itself, or become deflated. I have neglected my soul, and allowed it to be emptied of any inner meaning and purpose.

Sometimes my soul feels like it is spread far too thin, and I can no longer find its center. I have defined myself by everything that isn’t me, and so I no longer recognize what is me.

Sometimes my soul feels like it has become to heavy, and that it will sink. I have weighed it down with worry, with anger, and with despair, all the baggage it should be leaving behind instead of dragging along.

And yet there are still the times, whenever I can focus my mind rightly on who I am and my place within the harmony of the whole, that my soul affirms itself like a perfect sphere. Then it moves in a pattern with all other spheres, each reflecting the light of the other. Then I am myself, precisely because there is balance.

Many years ago, and I hardly remember the entire context, I was waxing eloquently on the soul being like a sphere to a fellow philosophy geek. Please remember that such pompous practices are hardly necessary for a good life, though they can be quite amusing.

“First, do you realize,” she said, “that you are making Marcus Aurelius sound like Leibniz?”

“Ah, dropping names!” I replied. “So what if I am? I hope they would approve!”

“And second, do you realize that you are describing the human soul like a giant disco ball, twirling around, always so happy to reflect the light of truth?”

“I like that image. We shall keep it, you and I!” 

Oh, I ended marrying that girl. What else could I do? Who else could possibly put up with me for life?

Written in 4/2009