Aurelius, again

God has been rather kind, for in my most unsuspecting moments has he sprung upon me life-altering philosophies, earlier with Swami Vivekananda and Thich Nhat Hanh, and now with Marcus Aurelius. When I embarked upon Meditations, I knew almost nothing about it or its author: I did not know that Marcus Aurelius was a Roman emperor, nor that he lived as far back as the second century (AD). I also had no idea that Meditations was a compilation of this great emperor's journal entries and not even intended for an audience. Neither did I recall (after having studied in school, long ago) a thing about Stoicism (although Aurelius is not quite a confirmed Stoic, though he does largely adhere to Stoic thought). The last couple of days have seen a change in all this and more.

It is infeasible (even) for me to type out the entire text of Meditations, but I would like this post to encapsulate its essence. In no particular order, then, do I include the excerpts below. Know that this is a mere scratching of the surface - twelve arbitrarily selected quotes to arbitrarily average one per book.

People seek retreats for themselves in the countryside, by the seashore, in the hills; and you too have made it your habit to yearn for such things with all your heart. But this is altogether unphilosophical, when it is possible for you to retreat into yourself at an hour you please; for nowhere can one retreat into greater calm or freedom from care than within one's own soul, especially when a person has such fine things within him that he has merely to look at them to achieve from that very moment perfect ease of mind.

Everything that is in any way beautiful is beautiful of itself and complete in itself, and praise has no part in it; for nothing comes to be better or worse for being praised. And I say this even of things which are described as beautiful in everyday speech, such as material objects and works of art. As for what is truly beautiful, has it need of anything beyond? Surely not, any more than law does, or truth, or benevolence, or modesty. Which of these is beautiful because it is praised, or becomes any less so if it is criticized? Does an emerald become any worse if nobody praises it? Or gold, ivory, purple, a lyre, a sword, a blossom, or a shrub?

'To what purpose, then, am I presently using my soul?' Ask yourself this question at every moment, and examine yourself as follows: what is the present content of the part of me which is commonly called the governing faculty? And whose soul do I have at present? That of a child? That of an adolescent? That of a woman, of a tyrant, of a domestic animal, of a wild beast?

The idle pageantry of a procession, plays on the stage, flocks and herds, the clashing of spears, a bone tossed to puppies, a scrap of bread cast into a fishpond, the wretched labors of overladen ants, the scurrying of startled mice, puppets pulled about on their strings. You must take your place, then, in the midst of all this, with a good grace and without assuming a scornful air; and yet, at the same time, keep in mind that a person's worth is measured by the worth of what he has his heart set on.

'Do you suppose that human life can seem any great matter to a man of elevated mind who has embraced the whole of time and the whole of reality in his thoughts?' 'Quite impossible', he replied. 'So to such a person not even death will seem anything terrible?' 'Not in the least.'

The light of the sun seems to be poured down, and to be poured, indeed, in every direction, but not poured away; for this pouring is an extension, and that is why the sun's beams are called 'rays', because they are extended. And what kind of thing a ray is you can readily see if you look at sunlight entering a darkened room through a narrow opening. For it stretches out in a straight line and comes to rest, so to speak, on any solid body that intercepts it, cutting off the air that lies beyond; and there it rests, neither slipping off or falling down. The pouring forth and diffusion of our understanding should follow a comparable pattern, and in no way be a pouring away, but rather, an extension; and it should not make a forcible or violent impact on the obstacles that it meets with nor sink down, but stand firm and illuminate the object that receives it; for that which fails to welcome it will deprive itself of its light.

If you can, show them the error of their ways; but if you cannot, remember that kindness was granted to you for this. The gods themselves are kind to such people, and even help them to certain ends, to health, to wealth, to reputation, such is their benevolence. And you could do so too; or tell me this, who is standing in your way?

Today I escaped the power of circumstance, or rather I cast all circumstance out; for it was not outside me, but within me, in my judgments.

But above all, when you condemn somebody for disloyalty or ingratitude, turn your attention to yourself; for the fault is clearly your own, whether for trusting that a man of such a character would keep his word, or for the fact that when you bestowed a favor, you did not grant it unconditionally and in the belief that you would immediately reap your full reward from the very action itself. For tell me, man, when you have done a good turn, what more do you want? Is it not enough that in doing this, you have acted according to your own nature, that you should go on to seek a reward for it? It is just as if the eye sought compensation for seeing, or the feet for walking. For as these were made to perform a particular function, and by performing it according to their own constitution, gain in full what is due to them, so likewise, man is formed by nature to benefit others, and when he has performed some benevolent action or accomplished anything else that contributes to the common good, he has done what he was constituted for, and has what is properly his.

Will there come a day, my soul, when you are good, and simple, and at one, and clearer to see than the body which envelops you? Some day, will you enjoy a loving and affectionate disposition? Some day, will you be satisfied and want for nothing, yearning for nothing, and coveting nothing, animate or inanimate, to cater to your pleasures? And not wish for more time, to enjoy them for a longer period, or a more pleasing place, or country, or climate, or more agreeable company? Or will you be contented instead with your present circumstances and delighted with everything around you, and convince yourself that all that you have comes to you from the gods, and that all is well for you and will be well that is pleasing to them and that they shall grant hereafter for the sustenance of the perfect living being, the good and the just and the beautiful, which generates, upholds and embraces all things, and takes them into itself when they are dissolved to allow others of like nature to come into being? Will there ever come a day when you are fit to dwell in the common city of gods and mortals so as neither to bring any complaint against them nor to incur their condemnation?

...for the pride that prides itself on its freedom from pride is the most objectionable pride of all.

Where is the hardship, then, if it is no tyrant or unjust judge who sends you out of the city, but nature who brought you in? It is just as if the director of a show, after first engaging an actor, were dismissing him from the stage. 'But I haven't played all five acts, but only three.' Very well; but in life three acts can amount to a play. For the one who determines when it is complete is he who once arranged for your composition and now arranges for your dissolution, while you for your part are responsible for neither. So make your departure with a good grace, as he who is releasing you shows a good grace.