Tag: Marcus Aurelius

  • Echoes

    “What we do now echoes in eternity.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    I worry less about productivity than I might project in this blog. Each day I do what I can, provoke something meaningful out of myself and celebrate having carried the torch one more time. The chaos of the world was not mine, my contribution was steadiness and reason. If I’m blessed with another day, I’ll try tomorrow to do it better.

    We must remember that we have a chance to do something meaningful with our time. Our actions influence others, rippling across our connections to people we’ll never meet. This blog post may get a few likes, be viewed a few dozen times and fade into bits and bytes in some data center somewhere on the Internet until the power finally goes out some day in eternity. We may accept the frailty of our voice for what it is and still be inclined to add our verse.

    The doing is the thing. We must do what we can with today before it’s gone forever, like all the rest. For this is our time, friends. If not now, when? The thing about an echo is that it must begin somewhere before it can reverberate through space and time.

  • Lifestyle Choices

    “You’re a ghost driving a meat-coated skeleton made from stardust; what do you have to be scared of?” — @rat_sandwich

    Funny quote, and doesn’t it resonate? Each of us knows that it’s now or never. We must live while there’s time to do things. That the only answer is to be bold in our lifestyle choices. Do what resonates and forget the rest. Yes, we know this to be true, but are we following through? We’ve got to feel the urgency to fly.

    The thing is, it’s an easy thing to tell ourselves to be bold, it’s a harder thing to be it. But bolder may be reached in a big leap or through increasing our audacity incrementally every day. Before we know it, we’re actually bold, or at the very least, bolder than we once were. This is how we begin to live properly.

    “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly. What doesn’t transmit light creates its own darkness.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    Bold doesn’t mean to run away from everything, not to me anyway. We may live a larger life without being reckless with all that we hold dear. Bold is a lifestyle choice realized in all of our moments. It takes courage to look our eventual death in the face and choose to dance, now, while we can.

    All that matters are the choices we make today. Yesterday’s me is dead, and today everything changes. This is the only way to grow out of who we once were into who we are meant to be. Who is that person, and what’s the first step to meeting them? Together, we’re writing one hell of a story.

  • Meeting Marcus Aurelius

    “Does the light of a lamp shine and keep its glow until its fuel is spent? Why shouldn’t your truth, justice, and self-control shine until you are extinguished?” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    I met an old friend in Rome over the weekend. First in his (replica but still impressive) statue at the Palazzo dei Conservatoriin in Rome, then the next day on a walk through the Vatican. Marcus Aurelius was a big deal back in the day. Many of us feel he still is. To encounter statues of him isn’t surprising, but it was surprisingly thrilling. It was like seeing a celebrity out in public—you know they’re just people but you’re still just a wee bit starstruck. So it was for me with Marcus Aurelius.

    The thing is, I view Marcus Aurelius as a kindred spirit of sorts, and not just an ancient mentor. We share the same birthday, so I’m often receptive to what the Emperor has to say. so to go to Rome and not seek him out seemed inappropriate, if not ungrateful. The statue on the Palazzo dei Conservatoriin was an obvious choice, as was a visit to the museum to see the original (not in the cards this trip), but stumbling upon him at the Vatican was a bonus.

    Meditations was Marcus Aurelius’s diary, becoming public after his death. It’s foundational work in Stoicism, and the work that resonates most with me. So meeting a few days after our respective birthday seemed appropriate. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day, but as the Emperor would say, there are no guarantees in this lifetime. But we may shine bright today.

  • Stay the Course

    “Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    I’d been saving this quote for the day I finished writing the blog. It seemed as good as any way to close it out. Perhaps this will be the last—since I’m using it and all that. Perhaps.

    It seems I share a birthday with my old friend Marcus Aurelius. Not too far away now, really. He has a few years on me, of course, but reading Meditations was a catalyst for making some changes to my routine of the time, including writing this blog every day. Blogging sometimes feels like shaving for me: I don’t always want to do it, but I feel better after having done it so I keep on doing it. Then the next morning there I am staring at myself in the mirror once again.

    The answer, Marcus suggests, is to stop worrying about process and routine and obligations and just be what you aspire to be. Just do the things that make us good people. The things that make the world less good will be there either way, so we are the counterbalance to all that we wish were different. Our answer all along has been to stay the course, friend. And so it shall be.

  • People, Pets and Places

    “Don’t be afraid of death so much as an inadequate life.” — Bertolt Brecht

    “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.” — Marcus Aurelius

    Recently, a colleague from overseas asked for some advice on where to go and what to do for a weekend in Boston. Answering this question is both easy and challenging. Oftentimes we are so caught up in the familiar routine that we forget to explore the things that make a place special. Go to the museums, take a walk through the Public Garden or the Esplanade, and definitely try the oysters, I told her, but it reminded me that I ought to take my own advice and step off the usual loop more often myself.

    If we crave anything in our average days, it’s more boldness. But to be bold in the face of an abundance of adequate choices a good life throws our way seems ungrateful—when life is good, why be so audacious as to turn it upside down? Does taco Tuesday really ever get old? Only when we question it. At that moment, we realize there can be more to a random weekday than the same thing we had last Tuesday.

    One might think taking the dog for a walk is mundane. I beg to differ! Every walk with a dog is a perspective changing event. Lately we’ve been walking the dog in a new place every weekend. Different beaches, woodland walks, rail trails. Every place is different for the dog, and different for us when viewed through the eyes and nose of an eager pup. In every walk we experience something new ourselves, and expand our lives in the process. It’s why we opted to adopt a rescue dog in the first place, because life is larger when we wrap more people, pets and places around ourselves.

    When viewed through the lens of a brief life, our choices in the everyday feel more essential. We can’t celebrate wine o’clock all day without flushing our vitality down the drain, but we can surely seek out the exclamation point in an otherwise mundane moment. Try a different walk or visit that museum we recommend to others but never seem to get to ourselves. Maybe even skip the tacos for once and try a donburi bowl. Sure, it’s not as alliterative, but it offers a whole new taste for Tuesday. The whole world awaits the adventurous spirits who venture out into it. So be bold in those choices today.

  • Celebrate and Savor

    “The thing about knowing you’re doing something for the last time is that it takes the joy right out of it.” ― Lynda Rutledge, West with Giraffes

    I walk through life with a reminder in my head: We may never pass this way again. Not the Seals & Crofts song, for that would leave me stuck in the 1970’s forever, but that phrase. And so it is that I bring more awareness to the things that I do, the conversations I have, the waterfalls and iconic artwork and scenic vistas I encounter. This may be the one and only time this living soul meets this person or encounters this spot, so try to make the most of it.

    It’s a very stoic thing to say to oneself; we may never pass this way again. Marcus Aurelius would nod his head at the phrase, and find it familiar. He famously wrote a few reminders to himself about the urgency of the moment, giving us the gift of Meditations, a book everyone should read and linger with in their lifetime:

    “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly. What doesn’t transmit light creates its own darkness.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    There’s truth in Rutledge’s statement, for we can suck the joy right out of the moment believing it to be the last dance. Or alternatively, we can simply dance. Memories linger in moments of deep meaning. This begins with awareness of the fragility of our time together. It’s not a cause for sadness but celebration. We are dancing in this moment together! We might go through life believing our best moments are slipping away from us or live in the moment believing we’ve hit the lottery. Haven’t we?

    We ought to go through life in this way, not mourning what will soon pass but appreciating what we are doing, where we are, who we are with, now. It’s a joyful moment when we celebrate and savor it.

  • Living a Noble Life

    “Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.” ― Marcus Aurelius

    Despite a list of imperfections and shortcomings longer than it ought to be, most of us strive to live a noble life. Being a good person in this world is surely something to aspire to, but we might look at it as a foundation to build upon instead of our sole objective. Put another way, being good should be a verb: yes, we are each good people, so what do we do with that?

    This action-oriented application of living a noble life is an evolution born of awareness. We grow into proactive goodness at our own pace. Some people are there from the womb, some never quite release themselves from the reflection in the mirror, the rest of us fall somewhere in between. A noble life is reaching beyond ourselves in service of the greater good. Surely something to aspire to in our quest for a life of purpose and fulfillment.

  • Through the Darkness and the Light

    And consider, always, every day, the determination
    of the grass to grow despite the unending obstacles.
    — Mary Oliver, Evidence

    We are change agents, creating new iterations of ourselves with every action. But so is everyone and everything else, which makes change exponential and complicated. There are some things we simply can’t control. One moment we’re celebrating what we’ve accrued and the next we’re mourning what has passed. The moments in between are often confusing and stressful. Mostly, we can only control how we react.

    “Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    Life is change, which means accepting the two sides of that coin. Amor fati. There will be obstacles and setbacks. Life is a series of such lessons, learned and forgotten and re-learned again. The lessons are unending, meaning we must learn to endure. We must find a way, despite it all.

    “The nature of the rain is the same and yet it produces thorns in the marsh and flowers in the garden.” — Arab saying (via Anthony De Mello)

    Through everything, there is growth, but isn’t it fair to ask ourselves, what are we growing towards? What are we rooted in, to sustain us in troubled times? What are we reaching for, when times are better? These are our days, through the darkness and the light, to do with what we will.

  • To Be Alive

    “When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” — Marcus Aurelius

    I saw the squirrel, hanging upside down in the sun, grasping the oak bark with its cleverly-designed hind claws that hinge and hook so miraculously. He was staring intently at me, wondering what my intent was. Ready to flee, preferring to hang in the sun nibbling on whatever delights he came across. “Don’t worry about me friend,” I offered. “My intent is to celebrate the day, as you clearly are.”

    We aren’t born with the tools to hang upside down halfway up oak trees, or to soar on a whim to see the sunrise from high above the valley floor. We aren’t born able to dive deep into the sea to see how far the sunbeams penetrate the salty depths. Yet someone engineered ways for us to do each of these things, should we be so inclined. We don’t celebrate the collective contribution of humanity nearly enough, perhaps because we focus so much on our failings.

    To be alive is an immeasurable gift, extraordinary in scope yet tragically brief in duration. What exactly are we doing with each day to celebrate this gift? To flip that question upside down like that squirrel in the tree, what are we postponing in our lives that rejects the gift of this day? Isn’t that the ultimate rejection that betrays our potential? For, no matter what we might tell ourselves, we may not have another.

    Maybe this is why I love mornings so much—they offer proof that we’ve been given the opportunity to be alive for at least one more day, and with it a fresh beginning. We each have the opportunity to engineer our lives from this moment to our last. To toss our limitations aside and find a way to soar.

  • Dancing with the Gloriously Possible

    The average human lifespan is absurdly, terrifyingly, insultingly short. But that isn’t a reason for unremitting despair, or for living in an anxiety-fueled panic about making the most of your limited time. It’s a cause for relief. You get to give up on something that was always impossible—the quest to become the optimized, infinitely capable, emotionally invincible, fully independent person you’re officially supposed to be. Then you get to roll up your sleeves and start work on what’s gloriously possible instead.— Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

    Every now and then you read a book that becomes an instant frame of reference for how you see the world and your place in it for the rest of your days. Walden, Awareness, Meditations, and Atomic Habits are some of the books that changed me profoundly. I can comfortably place Four Thousand Weeks on that short list. This is a mesmerizingly insightful look at the fragile dance we’re all in the middle of, and how we think and react to our realization that life is impossibly short. It reinforces many of the things I’ve written about in this blog, and turned a few working theories upside down and dumped them on the scrapheap. It’s a book I’ll be processing for awhile.

    “Your experience of being alive consists of nothing other than the sum of everything to which you pay attention. At the end of your life, looking back, whatever compelled your attention from moment to moment is simply what your life will have been. So when you pay attention to something you don’t especially value, it’s not an exaggeration to say that you’re paying with your life... what we think of as “distractions” aren’t the ultimate cause of our being distracted. They’re just the places we go to seek relief from the discomfort of confronting limitation.

    Confronting our limitation, and how we process that by either living in the moment or distracting ourselves with ritual, busyness, by deferring to the future (all the way to “afterlife”) or skimming along in the shallow pond of the unimportant are all very human reactions to figuring out what the hell to do with this short time before we rejoin infinity. Heady stuff, stuff that demands contemplation. But it can be overwhelming to think about such things. Who wants to be the Debbie Downer in their own life party?

    Burkeman points to the possibility of accepting life for the brief dance it is so you can focus on what you can and cannot achieve. Decide what you’ll focus on, and importantly, what you’ll let fall away. We can’t excel in everything, so why burden ourselves with those things on our to-do list? We know what’s most important already. Be honest with yourself about what is going to fall off and celebrate the unburdening of releasing it for our essential contribution.

    All those books listed above, in one way or another all come down to the idea of making the most of our short time. Since we all know the ship is sinking from the moment we reach awareness, shouldn’t we be conscious about how we react to it? Isn’t it liberating, in a way, to release the burden of the shortness of time and seize this moment? Think about the Titanic in her last moments —would you rather be in the band playing tunes to the end or the fool who jumps into the icy water screaming in denial to the last? Even the people who made it to the life boats gained but a short time more. I’d like to think they used it well.

    And so should we! Since we all meet our fate in the end, shouldn’t we make the most of our brief lives? What will you do with this focused time?