Book Club: Aurelius's Meditations
I read Marcus Aurelius's Meditations over the weekend. An English translation by Gregory Hays, it says. Here's some thoughts I had while reading it.
Reading it for the first time, I learned that I agree with almost everything Aurelius has written in there. This made me feel silly. As though nothing had changed over the course of human history.
It is obvious of course – it's highly likely that any two people agree quite a bit on things over any span of time. That's because human thinking scales both horizontally and vertically. And the more it does, the more likely someone has the same thoughts. Human social life has mostly remained the same, so that just improves the odds.
Some agreements we had surprised me, though, because it seemed strange Aurelius should have had the same ideas – of course, that's due to how I interpret the translation, and that interpretation is subject to change.
Anyway, I especially liked this quote: It can ruin your life only if it ruins your character. Otherwise it cannot harm you — inside or out.
Interestingly, being able to spoil one's character implies being able to improve it. Especially in a context of impermanence. So maybe there's hope.
This one I liked as well: If: this evil is not of my doing, nor the result of it, and the community is not endangered, why should it bother me? Where’s the danger for the community?
Very interesting. I can almost read between the lines an irritation, an appallment. It is a difficult lesson, that, if you ever feel alienated, and it's when you know you have something to learn from Aurelius. Presuming of course he learned this.
And this is one of the most curious of all, that piqued my interest:
Things ordinary people are impressed by fall into the categories of things that are held together by simple physics, or by natural growth. Those admired by more advanced minds are held together by a living soul. Still more sophisticated people admire what is guided by a rational mind — not the universal mind, but one admired for its technical knowledge, or for some other skill — or just because it happens to own a lot of slaves.
But those who revere that other mind — the one we all share, as humans and as citizens — aren’t interested in other things. Their focus is on the state of their own minds — to avoid all selfishness and illogic, and to work with others to achieve that goal.
Another very curious snippet, especially with respect to what it would mean to regard that one mind we all share. Perhaps he is referring to thinking, to some notion of mathematics or logic, of a singular truth, or maybe the universe as a mind. Indeed, what would even be the difference between all of these? Although, the idea of multiple universes waters it down somewhat. All-the-universes-and-more-as-a-mind, then, if that's necessary. And besides, the thought of a universe itself exists in this one, after all.
There are so many other really good ones in that book that it's difficult to choose what to pick up. In the interest of fair use, I'll restrain myself and only quote a few more. Here's one of my favorites:
Do your best to convince them. But act on your own, if justice requires it. If met with force, then fall back on acceptance and peaceability. Use the setback to practice other virtues.
Remember that our efforts are subject to circumstances; you weren’t aiming to do the impossible.
—Aiming to do what, then?
To try. And you succeeded. What you set out to do is accomplished.
A brilliant one right there. It is one of the greatest and most difficult lessons to accept that you cannot control anything except your actions.
And then, this one: Ambition means tying your well-being to what other people say or do. Self-indulgence means tying it to the things that happen to you. Sanity means tying it to your own actions.
Rings true to me. It felt really good to read those words. Real therapy for the soul from over a thousand years ago (through the filter of translation). And again, it's about the things you can control. Some say you control nothing at all; I'm not so sure. The difficulty is in recognizing whether you control your own thoughts, and what exactly is a thought in the first place. This is difficult, because you can't see it directly: you can only "see" a thought once it is complete. And even then the origin of the thought can be hard to trace, if only it is vivid enough. However, coming back to this idea of control, it is difficult to realize that you only control the action of thinking and not the result of it. Isn't that funny? And then it is the thing providing the finished thought to you that gets better at it, or doesn't.
To feel affection for people even when they make mistakes is uniquely human. You can do it, if you simply recognize: that they’re human too, that they act out of ignorance, against their will, and that you’ll both be dead before long. And, above all, that they haven’t really hurt you. They haven’t diminished your ability to choose.
To choose what? Anything. You can start walking now. You can leave at any time. Sometimes, in my life, it has thrown me off that I couldn't vote with my feet, because of seemingly insufficient choices – let's say because the market hasn't been exactly so healthy, or because I've lacked something at some particular moment. I may never really know what it was I needed or why things happened the way they did, but then, even in those circumstances, maybe I can create myself the option I crave. Or choose nothing. Wait it out. Although Aurelius might have something to say against passivity, the strange thing about the universe is that it perpetually changes. Not a single thing remains the same, and that he wouldn't argue. And some choices are a form of waiting, regardless.
Moreover, following that same line of thought only just one step further, it is amusing to see how being a human facilitates change. That is, looking at the world from the human point of view is itself a change compared to other life forms, regardless the restrictions imposed by matter – presuming of course that that remains the same! And to think that there could always be another entirely different dimension of experience is not impossible, except such a thing is impossible to imagine vividly.
To love only what happens, what was destined. No greater harmony.
Another useful idea – which would be to say to love everything. After all, there is nothing that does not happen in some sense. But the concept of love might sound like hoo-ha to the uninitiated. Might sound Christian. I believe this one is about being hurt or disturbed by something. Love is the antidote, because it's the most effective thing you can use to destroy the things that bother you. And by "destroy" I mean that it all goes away. Disappears into the void. It is your perspective that transforms, because things cease to trigger certain areas of your mind – or brain, if you want. Even though they might as well still be there. But then, what do you know about what's actually there?
No one objects to what is useful to him. To be of use to others is natural. Then don’t object to what is useful to you — being of use.
– A very interesting one especially today, in the age of popular AI. It's a question I keep asking myself every now and then: whom does this benefit? If it's no one, it's not here for long. If it's the few at the expense of the many, then it's doing more harm than good, and you better hope you can make your escape before it's too late. – To avoid bullshit, and to allow others to avoid it too.
I'll indulge two last excerpts: Give yourself a gift: the present moment. People out for posthumous fame forget that the Generations To Come will be the same annoying people they know now. And just as mortal. What does it matter to you if they say x about you, or think y?
Of course, nothing. They can keep you poor, though, until the end of time. But then: Other people’s wills are as independent of mine as their breath and bodies. ... Otherwise the harm they do would cause harm to me. Which is not what God intended — for my happiness to rest with someone else.
One of the interesting discoveries I had, reading the book, was how close the key points are to Buddhism. Granted, you can't find a mention of The Noble Eightfold Path or anything like that, except for maybe the prevailing notion of "good", but that would be somewhat beside the point – although, curious as to the motivations of incorporating it to begin with. There's an interesting thread that connects Hinduism, Buddhism, Stoicism, Christianity, psychotherapy and an inspiration to logic. And probably some other things, as well.
Indeed, it is as Aurelius himself would most likely say; it's nothing new.
But why do I think so? Because there is a common good. Because not only are you forgotten but you should be. Because it isn't about you. Either you agree with these things or you don't. Where do you think Stoic philosophy comes from?
I've been thinking. How many ways to feel well do you think exist? And do you think your brain helps you make the right conclusions when it's not well? The philosophy, it's meant for the person who still has emotions, a person who's looking for dignity in all of this, whatever this is. Thinking along the lines of Aurelius's stoicism: dignity is a virtue in counter of what?
Just recently, I read the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy on dignity, as well. It lists four categories: dignity as Gravitas, dignity as Integrity, dignity as Status, and dignity as Human dignity. Without going into detail regarding these four, it's funny, I've always thought of dignity as Realization. That is, that the notion of dignity arises out of a sense of ease and understanding. A sense that aligns with what I read in Aurelius's Meditations, incidentally.
But then, dignity as a concept could be seen as originating after Aurelius. Or, merely as having been coined by someone, and not much else. I see that it either points to something that has always existed or it doesn't. Funny how it sometimes appears that a single word exposes a contradiction, except that it shouldn't, presuming that language was used in an attempt to articulate a thought that was already complete – which is what Aurelius would say – and indeed it must have been, because the thought was there to be described. Otherwise there would have been nothing to say. A clever strawman does nothing to change this. So what is a contradiction? And what is reason not found in language to begin with?
From a loose computer science perspective, I'd say a specific kind of language is the output, and once you define how it must be, a generative network will become whatever it has to in order to produce that language output, if not the behaviors that go with it. And so, reason is the reason to act in a certain way, given to you by means of the carrot and the stick – crucially, incomprehensible without a goal to begin with. That is, unless you reached that inner state without external help. Did you really have to think this through, consciously? Did you have to debate it with others?
From psychology we know that there exist individuals with no inner monologue. Anendophasia, I believe it's called. Imagine how surprised they must be to learn that others hear erratic voices in their heads.
And what would it mean to not experience anything – no inner voice, no visual, no emotions – while thinking? Only what is required by the goal that you set out for the thought process.
Suddenly my mind hearkens me back to high school again and reminds me of the "appeal to the stone". Look it up, if you want.
Anyway, a real gem of a book. Very easy to recommend for anyone, not just hard-boiled eggs. I've been looking for a Finnish translation but haven't found one yet. Might have to order a copy one of these days, or settle for borrowing it.