Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.14

Either there is a fatal necessity and invincible order, or a kind Providence, or a confusion without a purpose and without a director.

If then there is an invincible necessity, why do you resist?

But if there is a Providence that allows itself to be propitiated, make yourself worthy of the help of the divinity.

But if there is a confusion without a governor, be content that in such a tempest you have in yourself a certain ruling intelligence. And even if the tempest carries you away, let it carry away the poor flesh, the poor breath, everything else; for the intelligence at least it will not carry away.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.14 (tr Long)

There might ultimately be an unfriendly order, a friendly order, or an unfriendly disorder. A friendly disorder presumably excludes itself, since there can hardly be concern where there is no intention.

The traditional model of Stoicism is, of course, the second option of a kind Providence, but Marcus Aurelius reminds us that even if the world were somehow structured differently, a good life would still be quite similar.

I do sometimes wonder if many of those who espouse Stoicism are actually more Epicurean in their thinking, though that too can lead to the practice of virtue.

If it must happen in a certain way, and the Universe cares nothing for my part, then it should not change my acceptance of these circumstances, bravely facing my situation, and expecting to be given nothing different.

If it must happen in a certain way, but the Universe encourages me in my own part, then I will also gladly embrace the benefit of being permitted to participate in my fate, of having my own choices become a very piece of the grand design.

If it could happen in any possible way, and there is no rhyme or reason to the Universe, then there may be no certainty in things at all, but there can still be meaning and value in how I choose to live, regardless of the chaos around me.

In all these cases, one thing remains constant: the power to make something of myself, according to my own judgment, whatever way the wind may blow. This can stand as the greatest comfort, through thick or thin, in wealth or in poverty, in sickness or in health.

However the Universe plays itself out, by whatever rules it unfolds, or even in the complete absence of such rules, whether I am given grace or faced with cold indifference, I am still in possession of myself.

Do I sometimes worry that there is no greater love, or no greater plan? Yes, quite often. Still, if that were the case, I can remain my own man.

Written in 8/2009