Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 11.18.2

. . . Second, consider what kind of men they are at table, in bed, and so forth; and particularly, under what compulsions in respect of opinions they are; and as to their acts, consider with what pride they do what they do. . .

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11.18 (tr Long)

What a relief it can be to practice thinking with someone instead of merely thinking at or against someone.  It is the difference between attempting to understand why he acts the way he does, rather than just feeling contempt for how he acts.

I can observe how he chooses to live from day to day, in the most common of ways, and I can then begin to see what truly motivates him. What perceived needs seem to drive him? What judgments inform him? What does he think is worthy of respect?

This will not excuse another, or remove any wrongdoing on his part, or require that I agree with him. It will simply allow me to consider my neighbor with compassion over condemnation. When I see what he cares for, I will not feel so angry or threatened, knowing that we are all subject to error, even as we are still certain that what we desire is good.

When I can make some sense of why he is hateful, or deceitful, or grasping, he will appear in a very different light. Would I be resentful of a man who does himself harm, or would it be better to show him pity? What good will come from fighting him, when I can perhaps offer him help? This will become possible if I can try to look at the world as he looks at it.

I can certainly not look down at him for taking pride in abusing others, if I only abuse him in return. To think with him allows me to think more clearly about myself.

I must not even consider all the great existential struggles of this life, as the most mundane problems will serve as ideal examples. So my lawyer is trying to charge me twice for the same work. So my mechanic doesn’t do the job on the car he says he will do. So my neighbor steals a case of beer off of my back porch. The first man is driven by greed, the second is driven by laziness, and the third is driven by pleasure.

Their actions don’t just proceed from nowhere, but follow from a certain estimation, however misguided or selfish, about what they consider to be best for them. Let me, by all means, correct them, but let me correct them as I would wish to be corrected, not with vengeance but with justice, not with hatred but with love.

When I can somehow get into someone else’s head, our shared humanity becomes far more apparent, and I will be all the more hesitant to treat him as a what instead of a who, as a punching bag instead of a person. 

Written in 5/2009