Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.3

The things are three of which you are composed: a little body, a little breath of life, and the intelligence.

Of these the first two are yours, so far as it is your duty to take care of them, but the third alone is properly yours.

Therefore if you shall separate from yourself, that is, from your understanding, whatever others do or say, and whatever you have done or said yourself, and whatever future things trouble you because they may happen;

and whatever in the body that envelops you, or in the breath of life, which is by nature associated with the body, is attached to you independent of your will;

and whatever the external circumfluent vortex whirls round, so that the intellectual power exempt from the things of fate can live pure and free by itself, doing what is just and accepting what happens and saying the truth;

and if you will separate, I say, from this ruling faculty the things that are attached to it by the impressions of sense, and the things of time to come and of time that is past, and will make yourself like Empedocles' sphere,

"All round and in its joyous rest reposing;”

and if you shall strive to live only what is really your life, that is, the present—then you will be able to pass that portion of life that remains for you up to the time of your death, free from perturbations, nobly, and obedient to your own daemon, to the god that is within you.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.3 (tr Long)

I can be quite foolish. Yes, I will gladly laugh along with your jokes. I arrogantly tried to go straight to the Greek here, thinking I could somehow “improve” Long’s version, in order to avoid that terrible run-on sentence. Even a desperate appeal to other translations didn’t help me. I will save it all for someone far more gifted.

Still, the meaning becomes quite clear, requiring only a bit of squinting and squirming.

I may say that three things are mine: my body, my life, and my thoughts. That is already quite an improvement upon the usual illusion, that my property is mine, or that my reputation is mine, or that my credentials are mine. They have nothing to do with me, of course, and even my body and my life are only lent to me; I am given care over them, and I do not actually possess them.

No, only my mind and will are my own for now. That sounds quite wonderful in theory, but how can I possibly live my life in practice, without all the other bits and pieces people insist must define me?

Well, I don’t have to live how they tell me I must; I can live as I know that I must. I should strip away everything that is extraneous, and reveal who I truly am, beneath all the bluster and the noise. If I don’t really care for the trappings, they won’t trouble me.

I know full well how the priests, the politicians, and the businessmen lie to me. I have been their fool all along, and I knew it all along. I played along, only in the hope of becoming one of them. Then there is that moment, when it’s time to clean all the accumulated crud off of my glasses.

Love others, but do not care what they say about you. That isn’t you.

Learn from your mistakes, but do not let others shame you about them. You can now be a new man.

If they tell you to worry about your future, know that they are playing you. Your merit is immediately in your present.

Are you weak, or sick, or dying? Are they trying to corner you by selling you magic cures? These are not the cures you need.

The situation seems hopeless, but your merit isn’t about your situation. Your merit is about your choices, in whatever circumstances you may find yourself.

Wait, they want you to lie, to cheat, and to steal for them? You are better than that, and you are more than that.

You feel hungry, despondent, lonely, and abandoned? There is your chance, what a wonderful chance, to be everything they tell you that you cannot be, to be everything they choose not to be. Be human, even as they deny their own humanity.

You are finally about to go. Yes, it comes to us all. So die with dignity, and without any shame. Stand up.

We assume that the winners die with the most toys, yet the best people die with a good conscience. The difference is like that between night and day.

Perhaps the scoundrels have found a way to sleep well at night; I know only that I must find a way to live well right now, removing all the external obstacles to my inner peace. Cast aside anything and everything that gets in the way of first and foremost being a good man. Dispose of the residue.

Replace the impression of glory with the substance of decency. It will be a joyous rest, indeed.

Written in 7/2009