Once the most powerful man in the known world,
Marcus Aurelius attempted to live virtuously, following Stoic principles. Unlike many Roman Emperors, he did not indulge
in the many pleasures he had access to, like getting drunk on wine and watching sadistic
games in the Colosseum. Marcus Aurelius wanted to fulfill the task
Fortune had given him, which was serving humanity. So, he cared deeply about fulfilling his purpose. But to do so, he had to care less about the
things that aren’t worthy nor wise to care about. And these things are many. One of the essential concepts in Stoicism
is the schism between things we control and do not control, which Epictetus’ Enchiridion
explains so clearly. Most (if not all) things beyond our own actions
are not up to us. Does that mean we should renounce the world? Not necessarily. But the Stoics believed that we should be
realistic about our limited influence on these things and that we create an unnecessary burden
for ourselves if we aren’t. When life hurts, it often means that we care
about things we have no control over, and by doing so, we let them control us and play
with us like puppeteers. Then, we blame the puppeteers for pulling
our strings while, in actuality, we allow them to do so. But if we stop caring about them, they lose
power over us, and we’ll be undisturbed. For Marcus Aurelius, being unperturbed by
things outside of his control allowed him to cope with the many responsibilities and
challenges he faced as an emperor and to focus on the task he believed he was given by the
gods. For Epictetus, it meant freedom. For other people, not being moved by external
forces (or a selection of them) could be a way to focus on goals that do matter. And for others, it could simply be a path
to a happy, carefree life. When life hurts, what are the things we should
stop occupying ourselves with? And how do we do it? This video is an exploration and free interpretation
of Marcus Aurelius’ philosophy on how to care less about things that aren’t worth
caring about. By the way, you’ll find more Stoic wisdom
in this book - Stoicism for Inner Peace - which contains my collected works on remaining calm
and focused in these challenging times. You’ll find a link in the description. In his Meditations, Marcus Aurelius repeatedly
differentiates between present, past, and future. In each category, the ancient Roman Emperor
has valuable things to say about how we either care too much about them, or in the wrong
ways, or about the wrong things. For clarity and structure, this essay is subdivided
into these categories, starting with… The future As Seneca once stated: we suffer more in our
imagination than in reality, implying that our thoughts are the source of our suffering. When it comes to the future, our imagination
often goes wild, inventing countless scenarios of what could happen (but probably never will). Beforehand, we think of ways to handle possible
outcomes while shivering because of the idea of ‘not knowing how the future will eventually
play out.’ In some instances, what happens is what we
anticipate. But in many other instances, Fortune surprises
us, overwhelming us with events we couldn’t have anticipated. For example, we could have spent years preparing
for a well-earned retirement only to receive, right before the first day of our twilight
years, a deadly cancer diagnosis that gives us just a few more months to live. The possibility of such events leads many
to continuous worry: the best could happen, but the worst as well! And what if the Third World War breaks out? What if I lose all my money? Such adverse outcomes are very well possible. But as long as they aren’t happening in
the present, we cannot deal with them, as these events simply aren’t happening (at
least, not yet): they only exist in our thoughts. The future only bothers us because we think
about it, as it does not exist outside the mind. Marcus Aurelius wrote that it’s not the
weight of the future pressing upon us but that of the present alone. It’s not the future that hurts us but how
we deal with it in the present. The misery of the future happens in the present. And ironically, it’s not the future unfolding
in the present, as when we encounter it, it’s already present. The misery of the future is our worrying about
it now. When we care too much about future events,
life eventually begins to hurt as we suffer them in our imagination, letting them dictate
our present. So, what does Marcus Aurelius say about caring
too much about the future? First, let’s consider the following quote: Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the
same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present. End quote. He pointed out that if he could cope with
the present, he could also cope with the future. He told himself not to picture everything
dreadful that could happen but instead stick with the situation at hand. When he focused on the present, he realized
he could bear it. And if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he
be able to handle what’s yet to come? This attitude resembles the idea of ‘Amor
Fati,’ the love of fate, but then fortified with trust that we’ll be able to get through
it. (2) The past Marcus Aurelius reminded himself of how fast
existence passes by and disappears in the infinite beyond our grasp. The past, as the future, is a realm we cannot
operate in. What’s gone is gone, and unless we invent
the time machine, we can’t change anything about it. Marcus Aurelius stated, and I quote: Remember that man lives only in the present,
in this fleeting instant; all the rest of his life is either past and gone, or not yet
revealed. Short, therefore, is man’s life, and narrow
is the corner of the earth wherein he dwells. End quote. Despite the narrowness of our lives, which
only occurs in the present moment, we’re often overly occupied with these areas that
lie outside of it and cannot be entered: the future and the past. Marcus Aurelius stated that the past “signifies
as much as nothing and is at present indifferent.” It’s not that events that have happened
in the past don’t influence the present or that we cannot learn from past events. It’s just that we cannot work with the past,
as it’s out of our reach. And often, our memories of the past are scrambled,
and ways to verify what exactly happened are limited. We rely on recollections from personal perspectives
and different viewpoints of ourselves or others. So, the past is not only out of reach; our
remembrance of it is most likely inaccurate. Yet, we keep caring about past events, often
repeating them in our minds, re-experiencing the pain they caused us. Some believe that by thinking about the past,
we may have some control over it. But that’s an illusion. The past is gone. All we try to control are our thoughts about
something that’s been flushed away, never to return. “I wish I could have done this differently,”
many people say. But they wish for the impossible. Nothing can be gained from such thoughts,
as they evoke desires we can never fulfill. Instead of focusing on the past events in
themselves, Marcus Aurelius focused on his reaction toward them. We cannot control past events. Most likely, we also couldn’t prevent them
when they occurred in the present. But we can control how we position ourselves
toward these events. Initially, we might consider the past unfortunate. We might have had difficult childhoods or
experienced the ending of friendships or failed business ventures. But, according to Marcus Aurelius, the nature
of these events isn’t so important; what counts is how we handle them. He stated: It’s unfortunate that this has happened. No. It’s fortunate that this has happened and
I’ve remained unharmed by it—not shattered by the present or frightened of the future. It could have happened to anyone. But not everyone could have remained unharmed
by it. Why treat the one as a misfortune rather than
the other as fortunate? Can you really call something a misfortune
that doesn’t violate human nature? Or do you think something that’s not against
nature’s will can violate it? But you know what its will is. Does what’s happened keep you from acting
with justice, generosity, self-control, sanity, prudence, honesty, humility, straightforwardness,
and all the other qualities that allow a person’s nature to fulfill itself? End quote. Interestingly enough, Marcus Aurelius doesn’t
discard the value of the past entirely. He believed we could learn from the past by
looking at its rhythm: how things come and go, repeating themselves, so we can “extrapolate”
the future. (3) The present Marcus Aurelius frequently mentions that the
present moment is all we have; it’s the narrow field we’ve access to. From the present, we can stare into the endless
abyss of the past and the impenetrable darkness of the future. Marcus Aurelius encouraged himself to stick
with what was in his control: this moment. But even when we let go of the past and minimize
our worries about the future, we may still very well care too much about things not worthy
of concern: the things happening as we speak. We are often dissatisfied with the ways life
plays out in the moment. And when things don’t go as we wish, we
tend to get angry, sad, or depressed. But according to Marcus Aurelius, being emotionally
disturbed by what Fortune throws at us is pointless. How the world around us unfolds itself is
not up to us; how we react to it is. Yet, we tend to get disturbed because we don’t
like what’s happening or what we want to happen doesn’t happen. Marcus Aurelius stated that we shouldn’t
fight what we’re compelled to. He compared people who struggle with Fortune
to pigs, kicking and squealing when sacrificed: it’s no use, as we can’t avoid what the
gods have in store. We cannot stop people from wanting to fight
wars; we cannot stop natural disasters from happening; we cannot prevent our bodies from
aging. In the same way, we cannot force the world
to grant our wishes; we’re not guaranteed that the people we’re attracted to are also
attracted to us, nor assured that all human beings have the same shots at life. It’s just not possible. Yet, we spend a lot of time and energy resisting
what is and what we cannot change through any means in our arsenal. We’re angry because we don’t have what
we want and sad because we’ve occurred what we don’t like, and thus, the present moment
becomes a torture chamber in which we suffer at Fortune’s every whim. Or, reversely, we’re so enamored with the
present moment that we cling to it. We’re afraid to lose what we have, so again,
we let Fortune control us. But from our total entanglement in all around
us, fleeting and ungovernable, we’re often unable to see what’s truly up to us: our
choices, actions, and opinions. Marcus Aurelius saw the law of nature as our
master; if we run from it or feel grief or anger about it, we’re nothing more than
deserters and fugitives. We must accept the ways of nature, embrace
them, and focus on dealing with them instead of wasting our energy being disgusted by or
clinging to our circumstances. A way to accept the present he wrote in the
7th book of his meditations, arguing that we should focus on what we have, not what
we lack, but with caution. I quote: Treat what you don’t have as nonexistent. Look at what you have, the things you value
most, and think of how much you’d crave them if you didn’t have them. But be careful. Don’t feel such satisfaction that you start
to overvalue them —that it would upset you to lose them. End quote. Nevertheless, accepting one’s circumstances
can be difficult; especially when we face significant hardships and life gives us lemons
repeatedly. Can’t we just have a break? But to Marcus Aurelius, adversity is not an
excuse to behave like squealing, screaming pigs. He argues it’s an opportunity to “practice
virtue,” or in other words, to apply Stoic philosophy to one’s life. The art of living isn’t about how amazing
and fortunate our external circumstances are, as they’re unreliable, weak, fickle, and
not our own. It’s about how we face the events we meet;
that’s what we should care about, according to the Stoics. As Marcus Aurelius stated: Because to me the present is a chance for
the exercise of rational virtue—civic virtue—in short, the art that men share with gods. Both treat whatever happens as wholly natural;
not novel or hard to deal with, but familiar and easily handled. Thank you for watching.