Doug Bruns

Posts Tagged ‘Marcus Aurelius’

11.23.2018

In Memoir, The Examined Life, Wisdom on November 23, 2018 at 8:00 am

It is Black Friday, our new national holiday.  Today we are encouraged to attend the Church of Eternal Retail and asked to take communion at the altar of consumption. I was once a dues paying member of this church. I sat in the pew up front, where the big consumers sit, the ones with fancy black cars and multiple properties. We were the ones who just came back from Europe, or some such place, leaving our trail of particulates behind us at 30,000 feet.

Then, slowly, things began to shift. Here’s how that happened.

One day I was walking my property, a large rectangle of many acres. Our house sat at the back, tucked against a state set-aside of several thousand acres. A nature preserve boarded the other side of our estate. We had a pool. And a pool house. You get the picture. As I walked through the woods deer sprinted in front of me. There was a fox den over by the creek. It was idyllic by any measure. But all that was lost on me on this particular morning. Instead my focus was on a tree that had come down in the last storm. And over there, I noticed a patch of poison ivy spreading unabated. And back by the house, I was obsessed by the weeds that returned week after week, despite the garden crew that plucked them every Friday afternoon. Then it hit me: The stuff I owned had somehow come to own me.

It was a simple, yet powerful, awakening. I was not the owner, but the owned, not master but slave. How did this happen? Simply put, success happened, as is measured conventionally. There’s nothing wrong with that in itself. But success can be a seduction. Odysseus had his crew put wax in their ears and ordered them to tie him to the mast. They were sailing past the Sirens and he wanted to hear their song, but not at the cost of casting himself into the ocean, or wreck his ship on the rocks. He was wise. Success was my siren song and I was whistling the tune. I didn’t have the wisdom to tie myself to the mast . Yet walking through the woods that day, I heard the crashing waves and took heed. A little wisdom came to me that morning and things began to change.

That was about ten years ago. It took time to turn the ship, but turn it we did. We got rid of everything–everything!–and purchased a 28’ Airstream trailer. We lived on the road for a year and a half. It was a study in minimalism. Consumption stopped. There was no place to put that new fleece. No reason to look at those new flat screen HD TVs. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “If you seek tranquility, do less…do less, better.” For me, it became, if you seek tranquility (freedom), own less, purchase less, have less–and be better for it. Be free.

So, on this day of national consumption, I exercise my new wisdom. I note with gratitude the path I ended and the new path I embarked on. I turn with appreciation to the few things I own and better cherish them for the scarcity. I reject the consumption that marks this day and embrace the eternal and lasting, as I understand it, wisdom, simplicity, and gratitude.

11.16.2018

In Philosophy, The Examined Life, Wisdom on November 16, 2018 at 8:00 am

“…just because you’ve abandoned your hopes of becoming a great thinker or                      great scientist, don’t give up on attaining freedom, achieving humility, serving                     others…”                                               ~ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 7.67

I’m at a stage in life where everything seems in flux. At 63 you’d think it would be otherwise, that I’ve got it all figured out and am set in my ways. Yet, it is just the opposite and I am completely energized and excited by it. The flux. The fluidity of life. As Marcus Aurelius implies in the above quote, the flux affords one an opportunity to regroup, to explore, to stretch. The abandonment of one thing opens the door to something else. There is no vacuum, only flow.

Epictetus, the ancient Greek philosopher, had a metaphor to explain the workings of the universe and our place in it. We are like a dog tied to a moving wagon. We can resist the pull of the wagon and be dragged and choked. Or we can go along with it. We have the choice, though obviously there are limits. (You’re going with the wagon one way or another!)  There is a similar notion in Taoism. Consider the stream flowing gently down the mountainside. Eventually it comes upon a boulder. Does the stream conspire to move the boulder, to resist the boulder? No, it simply flows around it and carries on. I find that thought generates great humility.

Don’t give up, counsels Marcus. Don’t give up on attaining freedom, achieving humility, serving others. You might have to abandon what you set out to do, but that does not mean resignation. Indeed, the more I align with the flow the less resistant I am, the more freedom I realize–and that is the antithesis of resignation. Humility comes naturally as one opens to the stream of existence, as does energy.

When you come up against the boulder, flow around it.

 

 

9.28.2018

In Philosophy, The Examined Life, Wisdom on September 28, 2018 at 9:00 am
Stoic Week photo

Notes from Stoic Week 2015

As mentioned in my last post, next week is the annual International Stoic Week. I signed up, will be participating, and encourage you to do the same. (It’s free.) I participated in 2015 and pulled my notes to review (above). I thought I’d share a highlight for you.

Drawn from Stoic writers like Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus, Stoic Week 2015 presented ten Stoic principles. I find them helpful and inspiring. Here they are:

  1. Stay active
  2. Do not fear
  3. Live modestly
  4. Be grateful
  5. Keep above the herd
  6. Follow nature
  7. Value time
  8. Behold virtue
  9. Block vices
  10. Examine yourself

It is obvious why, after more than two millennium, these principles have survived. They are ageless. They point to the/a course of a proper life. Lists, however, are easy and can easily be forgotten. I suggest taking one of these points and living with it for a day, or a week. Take it and meditate on it, carry it around with you. What does it really mean to “Follow nature,” for instance. One can follow one’s own nature, follow the natural world, reject the not-natural. However you choose to consider it, such advice takes one deep and leads to insight. Insight can never be taken from you. Living with such advice for a focused extended period is a means by which to take it off the page and put it in the heart.

Thanks for reading.

Sunday Repost: Moleskine Notes, May, 2010

In Creativity, Life, The Examined Life on February 10, 2013 at 6:00 am

Getting on a plane, holding my roller bag as I step in. I notice very attractive flight attendant. I look at her and smile. She smiles back. “You know,”she says, pointing to my bag, “that has wheels on it.” Well, duh, I think. “Yes, I know,” I reply. “I prefer to carry it down the aisle.” “Oh,” she says. “so does my dad.” I literally form the word “ouch” in my mind.

“There is more to life than increasing its speed” ~ Gandhi

“It is the only thing we can do, Klaus. I see no alternative. Each of us must turn inward and destroy in himself all that he thinks he ought to destroy in others.” ~ Etty Hillesum, on her way to her death, at age 29, in Auschwitz.

Dream of Life ~ Documentary on Patti Smith (see it)

Jim Harrison told Peter Phinny: concentrate on the writing. Get that right is all.

The four questions of Kant: ~ What can I know? ~What ought I to do? ~ What may I hope? ~What is man?

My project: sort according to themes? But what are the themes?

Life was a matter of opinion, according to Marcus Aurelius.

“At every moment, step by step, one must confront what one is thinking and saying with what one is doing, with what one is.” ~M. Foucault, 1983

Tuesday, August 29, Avignon, France: Got up around 9. Breakfast until 10:30, reading the International Herald Tribune, sipping coffee, pressed at table. Then we walk the streets, shopping, cafe hopping. Get caught in downpour and make way back to hotel in the afternoon, sprinting from awning to awning. Read then nap as the rain falls. Window is open. Head out at 5pm, golden light. People watch, have dinner after night falls, outside under lamps. Beers. Last night, lights out at 11:30.

Foxhole Stoicism

In Death, Family, Life, Philosophy on January 17, 2013 at 6:00 am
Dad (and me in mirror)

Dad (and me in mirror)

My father is ninety years old and has a cold. It is an annual event, his cold. The rest of the year he remains healthy, but for a bit of arthritis and type-two diabetes. My father is stoic, though he could not necessarily tell you what stoicism is. He will tell you, however, that the classroom for this life lesson was a fox hole in the Ardennes Forest in 1943. Why define a concept when your life exemplifies it?

He surprised me yesterday during our visit. “I’m not afraid of death,” he said. “It’s dying that worries me.” My father does not typically talk this way, again the stoicism. But over the recent years he’s said enough to let me know that it is a subject he now entertains. He looked at me keenly.

“It’s been said, dad, that you’re either afraid of death, or your afraid of dying.” I didn’t bother to elaborate on other insights of Julian Barnes. He nodded. “It’s the suffering,” he said, before changing the subject.

__________

Marcus Aurelius

Marcus Aurelius

“The act of dying is one of the acts of life,” said the great Stoic, Marcus Aurelius (121 AD – 180 AD). He also preached the comfort of ignorance that is the void of pre-existence, birth, with the existential ignorance that will be the void of post-existence, death. That is, you didn’t fret over your non-existence before you were born, why would you fret over your non-existence after your demise?

I subscribe to this way of thinking and find a modicum of comfort in it. But I’ve recently discovered that there is a third concern in dying, not summarized in Barnes’s observation, nor taken up by the Stoics. (For the record, on death, I am not Woody Allen. Concerns of my eventual extinction do not color my thoughts all day long. But, like my father, as my days advance, so does my thinking on the subject.)

The American philosopher, Mark Johnston, makes this observation (as related in the book I finished reading last night, Why Does the World Exist? by Jim Holt): “The prospect of one’s own most [sic] death is perplexing and terrifying because it reveals that we are not, as we supposed, the fountainhead of the reality we inhabit, the center of the world..” Truthfully, who can’t help but fall into this trap, the concept of being at the center of the reality we inhabit? We have no other way in which to experience the world. He then delivers the body-blow: “It turns out that I am not the sort of thing I was unconsciously tempted to think I was.” How deeply we have given into that temptation seems, to me, proportional to the degree of terrifying perplexity death elicits.

“Know thyself,” advised the Oracle at Delphi. I attempt to march to this admonition, but stumble over what this self actually might be. Johnston’s observation underscores my inkling that at the root of this conundrum is the concept of the self–a concept that gets in the way and ultimately trips us up. It is not surprising that Holt closes Why Does the World Exist?, with an observation by a Buddhist monk: “The world is like a dream, an illusion. But in our thinking, we transform its fluidity into something fixed and solid-seeming.” It was the Buddha, lest we forget, who observed the self as a false concept.

Thanks for reading,

d

Friday Moleskine notes

In Philosophy, Thinkers, Travel on May 14, 2010 at 8:22 am
Journals & Notebooks, but mostly Moleskines

Journals & Notebooks, but mostly Moleskines

“There is more to life than increasing its speed” ~ Gandhi

“It is the only thing we can do, Klaus. I see no alternative. Each of us must turn inward and destroy in himself all that he thinks he ought to destroy in others.” ~ Etty Hilleson, on her way to her death, at age 29, in Auschwitz.

Dream of Life ~ Documentary on Patti Smith (see it)

Jim Harrison told Peter Phinny: concentrate on the writing. Get that right is all.

The four questions of Kant: ~ What can I know? ~What ought I to do? ~ What may I hope? ~What is man?

My project: sort according to themes? But what are the themes?

Life was a matter of opinion, according to Marcus Aurelius.

“At every moment, step by step, one must confront what one is thinking and saying with what one is doing, with what one is.” ~M. Foucault, 1983

Tuesday, August 29, Avignon, France: Got up around 9. Breakfast until 10:30, reading the International Herald Tribune, sipping coffee, pressed at table. Then we walk the streets, shopping, cafe hopping. Get caught in downpour and make way back to hotel in the afternoon, sprinting from awning to awning. Read then nap as the rain falls. Window is open. Head out at 5pm, golden light. People watch, have dinner after night falls, outside under lamps. Beers. Last night, lights out at 11:30.