Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.8

Contemplate the forms of things bare of their coverings; the purposes of actions; consider what pain is, what pleasure is, and death, and fame; who is to himself the cause of his uneasiness; how no man is hindered by another; that everything is opinion.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.8 (tr Long)

“Pay attention! Why aren’t you paying attention?”

How often did I hear that phrase, first when I was in school, being told what was expected of me, and then when I was a worker bee, being told once again what was expected of me? How often did I get that very message, when I watched an advertisement on television, or when I listened to powerful and important people?

Most everywhere I turn, people are telling me to pay them heed. I am fairly certain they are doing this because I have something they might want. It is not necessarily just my money, of which I have little, or even just my loyalty, which will be of no real use to them, but perhaps only my submission, which makes them fell all warm and comfortable.

By all means, pay attention. Consider. Contemplate. Seek to understand. Yet what matters isn’t the attention itself, but what we might actually consider worthy of attention.

“Buy my product!” No, it doesn’t interest me.

“Vote for me!” No, you are playing a game.

“Worship at my altar!” No, you are selling idols.

Cut through all of that, go straight to the bone, and contemplate what is at the core of life. Do not be diverted by playful illusions and siren songs, do not be distracted by whatever appeals to the lesser part of you.

What is its nature, beneath all the appearances, whether appealing or frightening? Why is it here, and for what end does it exist? Why does this one thing seem to hurt, while this other thing seems to be pleasant? What is so frightening about death? Why do I feel the need to win any recognition at all?

Strip all the clutter away, and I will then understand why I am so uneasy. I have paid attention to the outside, not to the inside, to the style, and not to the substance.

I have forgotten something most important: I am not made by all these conditions that you insist demand my attention. You know full well that I will forget who I am, as soon as I have become obsessed with everything I am not.

How I form my own judgments will determine everything else about the value of my life. Do not try to draw me away from this, because I choose not to be your plaything. 

Written in 7/2009

Sayings of Ramakrishna 10

God is one, but his aspects are many. One and the same fish may be made to taste differently, according to the different modes of preparing it, so one God is enjoyed variously, in His various aspects, by His devotees.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.7

Consider in what condition both in body and soul a man should be when he is overtaken by death; and consider the shortness of life, the boundless abyss of time past and future, the feebleness of all matter.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.7 (tr Long)

It is not only the though of death that can be deeply uncomfortable for us, but any sort of reminder of our weakness, our frailty, our tenuous hold on all that we hold so dear, the prospect that all of our grand efforts will be as nothing in the scale of things.

The fact that we will most certainly die is disturbing enough, but then we must also face the fact that our bodies, our minds, and all of our circumstances are fragile and breakable things, completely beyond our power to retain, and that when it is all over, the memory of us will pass almost as quickly as we did.

We nervously look away, pretending it isn’t real, being all the more attentive to our glittering playthings and our petty schemes, like a fellow constantly checking his watch to avoid making eye contact with the girl who broke his heart. Maybe a clever rationalization, or a comforting superstition, will distract us from the dread.

“Well thanks, now you’ve really depressed me.”

But see, it doesn’t have to be that way. Yes, I will only be here for a short time, and that is as nothing compared to the vastness of creation. Yes, my health, my possessions, or my achievements really don’t amount to much of anything at all. Yes, even if I’m so lucky as to have someone thinking about me now, no one will be thinking about me at all fairly soon.

But why is this even bothering me? It will only be as troublesome as I allow it to be, and I will only care about all these diversions if I judge them to be important. I don’t need to live forever. I don’t need to be indestructible. I don’t need to be recognized. I simply need to possess myself, for the fleeting time that I have. I need to be charged, however briefly, with wisdom and virtue, with awareness and love, and the rest then becomes trifling.

Make it small in my estimation, and I can now turn to the true task at hand. The illusion has been dissolved. Lift your head up, look that girl straight in the eye, and smile with kindness, because all the other trappings don’t matter.

And so Stoicism turns it all around, taking what seems so terrible and transforming it into a glorious reminder of all that is good within us. By all means, contemplate death, and the corruption, and the insignificance of pleasure, and power, and fame, but don’t contemplate this to dwell on your loss. Contemplate this to point you to what you can now gain.

Written in 7/2009

What Hook?

Stoic Conversations 9

"Stoicism is sort of okay, I guess, I like some of what Marcus Aurelius says, but other things just don't appeal to me. I don't like the God shit. I haven't read much Seneca, because he wrote so many books, and I really don't have the time to read all that much. Epictetus feels really mean and judgmental to me, so what he says is sort of offensive."

"You're telling me what you like and dislike. Does whether something is true or false ever come into it?"

"What's the difference?"

The Pieces Fit

Smell the Flowers

Sayings of Socrates 19

If, I say now, when, as I conceive and imagine, God orders me to fulfill the philosopher's mission of searching into myself and other men, I were to desert my post through fear of death, or any other fear; that would indeed be strange, and I might justly be arraigned in court for denying the existence of the gods . . . then I would be fancying that I was wise when I was not wise. 

For this fear of death is indeed the pretense of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being the appearance of knowing the unknown; since no one knows whether death, which they in their fear apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good . . .

This is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself wiser than other men—that whereas I know but little of the world below, I do not suppose that I know.

But I do know that injustice and disobedience to a better, whether God or man, is evil and dishonorable, and I will never fear or avoid a possible good rather than a certain evil.

—Plato, Apology 29a–b

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.6

Practice yourself even in the things that you despair of accomplishing. For even the left hand, which is ineffectual for all other things for want of practice, holds the bridle more vigorously than the right hand; for it has been practiced in this.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.6 (tr Long)

For a good number of years, one of my old professors would kindly send out a recommendation letter whenever I applied for a job. Now I hoped he had something decent to say, or I assumed he would otherwise never have agreed to write it for me.

I eventually saw a copy of that letter in my file at work. I suddenly realized that the letter had been a mixed blessing. It spoke about certain strengths he thought I might possess, yet it also contained an interesting statement:

“Dr. Milburn is often slow in learning new concepts, and in acquiring new skills. Yet when he gets there, he easily outshines most of his peers, ending up far more proficient than the rest.”

Now which part of that statement do you think any prospective employer read? Yes, the “slow learner” part. The man meant well, and I hold him no ill will, but that certainly didn’t go over well in a world where we are expected to immediately do the best job, as quickly as possible, and with no questions asked.

I am quite admittedly not the sharpest tool in the shed, or the fastest horse on the track. I’m the ugly but reliable hatchet, the ungainly draft horse.

I do indeed take my time, not because I am lazy, but because I would prefer to do it right. I ask a lot of questions, perhaps more often than is comfortable. I try it again and again, perhaps more often than is efficient. I work slowly to work well, perhaps to the annoyance of others. I would, however, prefer to be the best worker, not the flashiest worker.

As a fine fellow I know, an expert machinist, likes to say: “Do it hastily, or do it well, but there’s no having it both ways.”

Simply wanting to do it well will not make me do it well. Simply engaging the task with confidence will not get the job done. I may want to impress, though it will not make me excel.

What will make the difference? I hate to say it, because it sounds like such a platitude, but it is just practice. Yes, practice makes perfect. Yes, virtue is a habit. Doing it once won’t cut it, while doing it over, and over, and over again, will make it like a second nature. It not only becomes effortless, it also becomes pleasant to do something well.

Did it seem impossible at first? Do you realize it is more than possible when you dedicate yourself to some annoying repetition? It is like this in all aspects of life, and it is like this in the absolutely most important aspect of life, the building of moral character.

I was born left-handed, but a teacher once insisted that I had to write with my right hand. One day, I decided I would teach myself to write with my left hand again. Did I do it? Yes. Was it easy? No. How long did it take? Far longer than I would like to say.

I often worry that I can’t resist this or that desire, or overcome this or that pain, or face the fact that this or that preferred circumstance will never come to me. Do I wish to become better? It starts with conviction, and continues with commitment; the latter becomes possible through the former. If it’s worth it, it will take time to do it right, and if it’s noble, it will take some elbow grease.

Yes, practice makes perfect.

Written in 7/2009

Tao Te Ching 44

Or fame or life,
Which do you hold more dear?
Or life or wealth,
To which would you adhere?
Keep life and lose those other things;
Keep them and lose your life—which brings
Sorrow and pain more near?

Thus we may see,
Who cleaves to fame
Rejects what is more great;
Who loves large stores
Gives up the richer state.

Who is content
Needs fear no shame.
Who knows to stop
Incurs no blame.
From danger free
Long live shall he.

Stoic Conversations 8

"You could be rich if you weren't so lazy."

"So I need to work harder?"

"Yeah, harder and smarter."

"But what if I think being rich isn't the most important thing to work for, or that it isn't really all that smart?"

"See? I told you that you were lazy!"

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.5.2

. . . But if this is so, be assured that if it ought to have been otherwise, the gods would have done it. For if it were just, it would also be possible; and if it were according to Nature, nature would have had it so.

But because it is not so, if in fact it is not so, be convinced that it ought not to have been so. For you see even of yourself that in this inquiry you are disputing with the Deity; and we should not thus dispute with the gods, unless they were most excellent and most just. But if this is so, they would not have allowed anything in the ordering of the Universe to be neglected unjustly and irrationally.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.5 (tr Long)

Whenever I am butting heads with Providence, I inevitably find that my own estimation is the problem.

I expect the world to conform to my own passions and preferences, instead of learning how my own passions and preferences can best work in the world.

I am thinking only of what I wish to receive, not of what I am able to give.

It becomes about me being against other things, quite forgetful of my part within the harmony of the whole.

If it happens as it does, I can learn to accept that it happens as it does, and that it is rightly meant to happen as it does. Each piece has played a part, and now it only remains for me to play my part.

If I cry and complain, I am hardly making the situation any better, and I am only making myself worse. If I commit myself to the good in my actions, I am perhaps helping to improve other things, and I am most certainly improving myself.

My knowledge that the world unfolds this way for a reason must begin with humility, with an openness to Nature, with a sense of reverence for a greater order and purpose. It does not have to be about my good suffering for the good of other things, and can instead become an awareness of how all things fit together.

False dichotomies will always get me into trouble.

Accordingly, when I face loss, pain, or uncertainty, I should first look to myself. Am I perhaps expecting something that I don’t need to expect? Am I thinking imperfectly about my own good, from my circumstances instead of my character? Am I separating what I want from who I am really meant to be?

I do not need to understand all the mysteries of Providence to work with her; it is sufficient to simply know that I have acted with virtue, according to my particular human nature, and that other things have acted according to their particular natures.

My problem is always expecting more than I should, failing to be content with myself, and doing less than I should, failing to find the excellence that is already within me.

Why am I arguing with God, if I don’t somehow already know that there is a meaningful design playing itself out? I have been given a mastery over myself, and so if I want justice I am called to be just myself. Everything else is fulfilling that calling as well, in its own way, and in its own time, even if my own mind does not immediately perceive all ends.

Written in 7/2009

Ecclesiastes 10:1-4

[1] Dead flies make the perfumer's ointment give off an evil odor;
so a little folly outweighs wisdom and honor.
[2] A wise man's heart inclines him toward the right, 
but a fool's heart toward the left.
[3] Even when the fool walks on the road, he lacks sense, 
and he says to every one that he is a fool.
[4] If the anger of the ruler rises against you, do not leave your place, 
for deference will make amends for great offenses.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.5.1

How can it be that the gods, after having arranged all things well and benevolently for mankind, have overlooked this alone, that some men, and very good men, and men who, as we may say, have had most communion with the Divinity, and through pious acts and religious observances have been most intimate with the Divinity, when they have once died should never exist again, but should be completely extinguished? . . .

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.5 (tr Long)

I have offered myself three answers to this question, at different times. The first is from the oldest me, the second from the middle me, the third from the newest me.

I cannot claim to know precisely why Marcus Aurelius asked this. At first, I would take the question quite literally, and ponder the injustice or tragedy of it all. Later, I would see it as a rhetorical question, and find within the question itself the very problem within my own thinking.

First Stage: Damn straight, how did God get this one thing wrong? There should surely be a reward for being just, for being pious, for trying to rise above all of the muck and the filth. Why do the virtuous die with nothing, often well before their rightful time, while the vicious live with everything, often well beyond their rightful time? It all seems quite unfair.

Second Stage: Maybe it isn’t wrong for something to cease to be? Providence doesn’t get things wrong at all; I just don’t see it right. Living longer or shorter is neither good nor bad. Having more or else is neither good nor bad. I have misunderstood what a good life really is. Yes, I will die, as will everyone else, and the only thing that matters is how well my time was lived, not how long I lived, or how much “stuff” I acquired.

Third Stage: Wait, does anything really cease to be at all? Nothing ends; it only becomes something else, something different, and thereby continues on in the order of Nature. Is it the same? Of course not, and it would hardly be part of a process if it merely stayed the same. Will "I" still exist? In some sense, though it isn’t for me to determine how that expresses itself. I am quite content to let God, or the Divine, or the Logos, or the Absolute, decide what that will be.

Faith, which is nothing but trust, is hardly so unreasonable in the end.

The order of things isn’t messed up at all. My estimation of things is what is messed up. The very way I ask the question reveals my first principles, and the answers come from my own growth in truth.

Perhaps my answer, and even my way of asking the question, will evolve again as I move along, and before I breathe my last. I not only suspect that will happen, I actually hope it will happen. Nothing created stands still.

Written in 7/2009

The Art of Peace 35

The Path of Peace is exceedingly vast, reflecting the grand design of the hidden and manifest worlds. A warrior is a living shrine of the divine, one who serves that grand purpose. 

Men Without Hats, "Head Above Water"

Sometimes, a simple synthpop tune tells you everything you need to make it through the day.

This album appeared at a time when our family briefly found itself on solid financial ground, even as the burden of physical illness began to rear its ugly head. We had no idea how bad it was going to get.

"It never goes right, does it?" we sighed.

Sure it does. Define what makes a good life. We would dance around the house late at night to this song by Men Without Hats, like a bunch of complete lunatics, knowing that this crazy Canadian band understood us, even if no one else did.

"Knowing you are loved, and knowing you love too. . ."

—bsc

Men Without Hats, "Head Above Water", from Love in the Age of War (2012)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHRkG_7o6WA

It doesn't seem right
I want to say no
But the only thing to do is let you go
I wanted to speak
I wanted to say
But all these different words got in the way

Someone said to me
Be careful what you dream
It just might come true
Life's great mysteries
Tend to become clearer
Once you've seen them through

Holding your head above water
Holding your heart in your hands
Holding your sons and your daughters
We're just holding on...

It doesn't seem right
But it doesn't seem wrong
Just somewhere we've been headed all along
I wanted to say
I wanted to speak
I hope you find the happiness you seek

Another said to me
Be careful what you dream
It might not come true
Life's great destiny
Is knowing you are loved
And knowing you love too

Holding your head above water
Holding your heart in your hands
Holding your sons and your daughters
We're just holding on...

Stoic Conversations 7

"You know, I just can't understand why I never meet nice guys. I mean, you're a nice guy, right? We've been friends for years, and you've never played games with me. I'm sick of all the shallow shit. Why aren't there more guys like you?"

"Well, I'm sitting right here, and I just made you an amazing cocktail, never to be repeated in the history of mankind, because I have no idea what I put in it."

"Well, duh, but you're just too skinny for me, and a bit weird, you know?"

"Yes. Yes, I do know. No more shallow shit for you." 

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.4

I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others.

If then a god or a wise teacher should present himself to a man and bid him to think of nothing and to design nothing that he would not express as soon as he conceived it, he could not endure it even for a single day.  So much more respect have we to what our neighbors shall think of us than to what we shall think of ourselves.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 12.4 (tr Long)

I have spent most of my life ignored by others, and I have responded with either wild resentment or peaceful acceptance. Every so often, I have found myself ridiculed or cast aside by others, and I have responded with either wild resentment or peaceful acceptance. Whether I was happy or not depended quite a bit on the choices I made about what came to me.

Now one might think that this would, at the very best, teach me a bit of healthy self-reliance, or, at the very worst, drag me down into some rather unhealthy isolation. Oddly enough, I usually still felt the need to crave approval. I wanted so desperately to be recognized, and if there were some occasions when I was recognized, I wanted so desperately to be recognized well.

I believe that instinct to be perfectly natural, to desire being a part of something, to have a place within the whole, and to have that place be confirmed by those around me. My mistake was always in thinking that the approval made me good, instead of seeing that what was good could then be worthy of approval. The instinct was not tempered by reason.

As in so many things Stoic, my priorities were flipped; the cause was confused with the consequence. No man is ever made to be alone, but sometimes he will find himself in solitude. Indeed, he is never alone if he lives well, looking to his conscience first and foremost; then he is working with and for all things, for all his neighbors, for every part of creation, even if he is not given any trophies, or awards, or further bonuses.

Should I care what other people think? Yes, of course, because they are my brothers and sisters. Should I make who I am dependent on what they think? No, absolutely not, because then I am hardly myself.

The Stoic Turn requires working from the inside out, not from the outside in. The mentality of the herd demands working from outside in, not from the inside out.

Once I look to anything beyond my own wisdom and virtue as the measure of my life, I have also surrendered the mastery of my life. Many folks will tell you that they are powerful, precisely because they are loved by others. No, they are actually weak, precisely because they have not first loved others.

What have I received? That’s a crapshoot. What have I given? There’s the golden ticket.

Written in 7/2009

The Winds of Fate

"The Winds of Fate"
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1916) 

One ship drives east and another drives west
With the self-same winds that blow;
   'Tis the set of the sails
   And not the gales
That tells them the way to go. 

Like the winds of the sea are the winds of fate
As we voyage along through life;
   'Tis the set of the soul
   That decides its goal
And not the calm or the strife. 

Sayings of Heraclitus 9

Asses would rather have straw than gold.