Stoic Meditations

It isn't events themselves that disturb people, but only their judgments about them.
The samurai swordsman Musashi made a distinction between our "perceiving eye" and our "observing eye." The observing eye sees what is. The perceiving eye sees what things supposedly mean. Which one do you think causes us the most anguish?

An event is inanimate. It's objective. It simply is what it is. That's our observing eye sees.

Your observing eye takes it all in, and your perceiving eye works it into meaningfulness. Do not conflate the two, and strive to be conscious of your perceiving eye's work.

"Throw out your conceited opinions, for it is impossible for a person to begin to learn what he thinks he already knows."
Of all Stoics, Epictetus is the closest one to a true teacher. He had a school. He hosted classes. In fact, his wisdom is passed down to us through a student who took really good lecture notes. One of the things that frustrated Epictetus about philosophy students - and has frustrated a great many teachers - is how students claim to want to be taught but secretly believe they already 'know.' They merely want the lesson to confirm what they think they already know.

The reality is that we've all been guilty, and will be guilty of thinking like this at some point - even though we know we'd learn more if we could set that attitude aside. As smart or successful as we may be, there is always someone who is smarter, more successful, and wiser than us. Emerson put it well: "Every man I meet is my my master at some point, and in that I learn from him." In a similar sentiment, Bill Bye often said at the end of his science show, "Remember, everyone you meet, knows something you don't."

If you want to learn, if you want to improve your life, seeking out teachers, philosophers, and great books is a good start. But this approach will only be effective if you're humble and ready to let go of opinions you already have.

"Don't act grudgingly, selfishly, without due diligence, or to be a contrarian. Don't overdress your thought in fine language. Don't be a person of too many words and too many deeds... Be cheerful, not wanting outside help or the relief others might bring. A person needs to stand on their own, not be propped up."
In most areas of life, the saying "Less is more" stands true. For instance, the writers we admire tend to be masters of economy, brevity, and meaning. What they leave out is just as important - sometimes more important - than what they leave in. There is a poem by Philip Levine titled "He Would Never Use One Word Where None Would Do." And from Hamlet, the best of all - the retort from Queen Gertrude after a long, rhetorical speech from Polonius: "More matter with less art," she tells him. Get to the point!

Imagine the emperor of Rome, with his captive audience and unlimited power, telling himself not be a person of "too many words and too many deeds." Let that be a reminder the next time you feel self-indulgent or a little full of yourself.

"Believe me, it's better to produce the balance-sheet of your own life than that of the grain market."
The things that some people manage to be experts in: fantasy sports, celebrity trivia, derivatives and commodities markets, thirteenth-century hygiene habits of the clergy.

We can get very good at what we're paid to do, or adept at a hobby we wish we could be paid to do. Yet our own lives, habits, and tendencies might be a mystery to us.

Seneca was writing this important reminder to his father-in-law, who, as it happened, was for a time in charge of Rome's granary. But then his position was revoked for political reasons. Who really cares, Seneca was saying, now you can focus that energy on the inner life.

At the end of your time on this planet, what expertise is going to be more valuable - your understanding of matters of living and dying or your knowledge of the '87 bears? Which will help your children more - your insight into happiness and meaning, or that you followed breaking political news every day for thirty years? That isn't to say you have to avoid all those things, but be aware of your focus and what it could cost.

"There is no evil in things changing, just as there is no good in persisting in a new state."
When people say change is good, they're usually trying to reassure someone (or perhaps themselves). Instinctively, many view change as bad - or at least we're suspicious of it and experience anxiety because of it.

The Stoics want you to do away with those labels altogether. Change isn't good. The status quo isn't bad. They just are.

Consider the parallels in an eastern Zen parable :

There lived an old farmer who had worked in his fields for many, many years. One day, his horse bolted away. His neighbors dropped in to commiserate with him. “What awful luck,” they tut-tutted sympathetically, to which the farmer only replied, “We’ll see.”

Next morning, to everyone’s surprise, the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How amazing is that!” they exclaimed in excitement. The old man replied, “We’ll see.”

A day later, the farmer’s son tried to mount one of the wild horses. He was thrown on the ground and broke his leg. Once more, the neighbors came by to express their sympathies for this stroke of bad luck. “We’ll see,” said the farmer politely.

The next day, the village had some visitors – military officers who had come with the purpose of drafting young men into the army. They passed over the farmer’s son, thanks to his broken leg. The neighbors patted the farmer on his back – how lucky he was to not have his son join the army! “We’ll see,” was all that the farmer said!

Remember, events are objective. It's only our opinion that says something is good or bad (and thus worth fighting against or fighting for).

A better attitude?

To decide to make the most of everything.

"Meditate often on the interconnectedness and mutual interdependence of all things in the universe. For in a sense, all things are mutually woven together and therefore have an affinity for each other - for one thing follows after another according to their tension of movement, their sympathetic stirrings, and the unity of all substance."
Anne Lamott once observed that all writers "are little rivers running into one lake," all contributing to the same big project. The same is true in many industries - though sadly, even inside the same company, people selfishly forget they're working together. As human beings we all breathe the atoms that made up our ancestors and flow into the same earth when we die.

Over and over, the Stoics reminded themselves of the interconnectedness of all life. Perhaps that was because life in Greece and Rome was particularly harsh. Animals and people were slaughtered senselessly to amuse the masses in the Colosseum (events lamented in Stoic writings). Countries were conquered and its citizens sold into slavery to expand the empire (the futility of which the Stoics also lamented). This kind of cruelty is possible only when we forget how we're related to our fellow human beings and the environment.

Today, take a moment to remember that we are woven together and that each of us plays a role in this world.

"No, it is events that give rise to fear - when another has power over them or can prevent them, that person becomes able to inspire fear. How is the fortress destroyed? Not by iron or fire, but by our own judgments...here is where we must begin, and it is from this front that we must seize our own fortress back and throw out the tyrants who would subdue us."
The Stoics give us a marvelous concept: The Inner Citadel. It is this intangible fortress, they believed, that protects our soul. Though we might be physically vulnerable, though we might be at the mercy of fate in many ways, our inner domain is impenetrable. As Marcus Aurelius put it (repeatedly, in fact), "stuff cannot touch the soul."

But history teaches us that impenetrable fortresses can still be breached, if betrayed from within. The citizens inside the walls - if they fall prey to fear, greed, or avarice - can open the gates and let the enemy in.

You've been granted a strong fortress. Don't betray it.

In Plutarch's Life of Theseus, he describes how the ship of Theseus, an Athenian hero, was preserved by the people of Athens in battle-ready condition for many centuries. Each time a board decayed, it would be replaced until eventually every stick of wood in it had been replaced. Plutarch asks: Is it still the ship of Theseus, or is a new one?

In Japan, a famous Shinto shrine is rebuilt every twenty-three years. It's gone through more than sixty of those cycles. Is it one shrine, 1,400 years old? Or sixty consecutive shrines? Even the U.S. Senate, given its staggered elections, could be said to have never been fully turned over. Is it the same body formed in the days of George Washington?

Our understanding of what something is is just a snapshot - an ephemeral opinion. The universe is in a constant state of change. Our nails grow and are cut and keep growing. New skin replaces dead skin. Old memories replace new memories. Are we still the same people? Are the people around us the same? Nothing is exempt from this fluidity, not even the things we hold most sacred.

This is classic Stoic thinking, as you may have gathered by now. An event itself is objective. How we describe it - that it was unfair, or it's a great calamity, or that they did it on purpose - is on us.

Malcolm X (then Malcolm Little) went into prison a criminal, but left as an educated, religious, and motivated man who would help in the struggle for civil rights. Did he suffer an evil? Or did he choose to make his experience a positive one?

Acceptance isn't passive. It is the first step in an active process toward self-improvement.

"To what service is my soul committed? Constantly ask yourself this and thoroughly examine yourself by seeing how you relate to that part called the ruling principle. Whose soul do I have now? Do I have that of a child, a you...a tyrant, a pet, a wild animal, or a sage?"
To what are you committed? What cause, what mission, what purpose? What are you doing? And more important, why are you doing it? How does what you do every day reflect, in some way, the values you claim to care about? Are you acting in a way that's consistent with something you value, or are you wandering, unmoored to anything other than your own ambition?

When you examine these questions, you might be uncomfortable with the answers. That's good. That means you've taken the first step to understanding your behavior and improving it - to being better than those wild creatures Marcus Aurelius mentions. It also means you're closer to discovering what your duty calls you to do in life. And once you discover it, you've moved a little bit closer to fulfilling it.