Morning Prayer part 2

"When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: the people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly." 

- Marcus Aurelius

Compared to Aurelius' other morning prayer, the above probably sounds a little pessimistic. Whereas before he urges himself to "think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive--to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love," he now prepares himself for a long line of unpleasant, unsavoury, and difficult people.

But is it pessimistic to prepare yourself for the inevitable, or simply pragmatic?

We must all interact with people who fall outside our circle of compassion. It's foolish to go around thinking we will get along with everyone we meet. People have different values, opinions, and habits, and it stands to reason that these will differ from your own. And good thing, too. Imagine what a dull world it would be if everyone agreed on everything all the time!

Although Aurelius is prepared to encounter all types of unpleasant people, he takes great care not to resent them, reminding himself that "they are like this because they can’t tell good from evil." In other words, it's not their fault that they're meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, or surly: it's because they are blissfully ignorant or because they cling to a skewed perception of reality. They value the wrong things because they confuse the good with the ill and thus fall into negative patterns of thought and behavior.

Aurelius continues:

But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own—not of the same blood or birth, but of the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. 

Rather than hate these wrongdoers, Aurelius feels a sense of brotherhood with them. Though they know it not, they too possess a splinter of the universal intellect and so there is a chance that they will one day see the beauty of good and the ugliness of evil.

And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness. Nor can I feel angry at my relative, or hate him. 

No matter what these wrongdoers do, they cannot touch Aurelius. They cannot even incite his anger, only his sympathy.

We were born to work together like feet, hands, and eyes, like the two rows of teeth, upper and lower. To obstruct each other is unnatural. To feel anger at someone, to turn your back on him: these are obstructions.

Those ignorant to the nature of good and evil are like the malfunctioning parts of a machine: they have fallen out of harmony with the whole and now hinder its proper functioning. To feel anger towards others--even those who purposely hinder the working of the human machine--is not only unnatural but an obstruction to right living.

Aurelius' words also happen to fall in line with one of Christ's most powerful teachings: that we should love our enemies and do good to those that hate us. Indeed, what merit is there in loving those who reciprocate our love and treat us well? It's natural to love those who love us back. The real challenge is to love those who spite us, insult us, obstruct us, and otherwise mean us harm.

We're so accustomed to fighting fire with fire--to countering insults with insults, aggression with aggression, and so on--that Aurelius' advice may sound backward. And yet a brief examination of our tendencies (and, more importantly, their results) shows them to be fallacious in the worst way.

Wars always fail to resolve the conflicts that spark them. Interpersonal disagreements worsen and become grudges when both parties remain disagreeable. Disease and illness are compounded by poor diet and lifestyle choices.

A force cannot be overcome except by its exact opposite.    

Next time you interact with someone who chafes you, try focusing on their good qualities, however few and minute. Try putting yourself in their shoes or thinking of a time when you irritated and annoyed others. Ask yourself, "What faults of mine resemble most closely this person's faults?" And lastly, try showing them kindness, understanding, and love.

They might not acknowledge or appreciate your good treatment, but then you're not doing it for the recognition.

You do it for yourself, because you know better. You know that people were made for one another, that the only thing that can conquer hate, anger, and the other toxic fruits of bad thought and wrong action are the forces of love, empathy, and sympathy.

You know that by showing kindness to the unkind, generosity to the greedy, and understanding to the ignorant, you fulfill your purpose and serve as a beacon of goodness for those around you.

/rant over

Long Lost Logos

That deep emotional conviction of the presence of a superior reasoning power, which is revealed in the incomprehensible universe, forms my idea of God.
- Albert Einstein 

For behold, the kingdom of God is within you.
- Jesus Christ

Are humans merely a fancy breed of ape, no more special than any other beast on the planet? Is our existence inherently devoid of purpose? Is the search for meaning, happiness, and fulfilment a pointless pursuit?

Or are we different from other animals? Were we chosen by a higher power for a special purpose? Do we hold within ourselves a fragment of the divine, and is this fragment key to achieving joy and fulfillment?

Dan Meilleur did a fantastic job laying out the particulars of this debate in his post entitled "Special or Not?" In it, Meilleur clearly disagrees with the Judeo-Christian view of humanity's superior status. He states that

human life is no more important or intrinsically valuable than that of a kangaroo, a carrot, or a flea. Our sentience is different, yes, but our importance--our “special-ness”--is not.

Meilleur rightfully blames the Judeo-Christian view--that the creator of the universe personally made us, takes an interest in our daily activities, and that the earth is our birthright--for some of the problems we are facing as a species today. By thinking that we are superior to other lifeforms and that the earth is ours to subjugate, we can pollute and destroy without a shred of remorse.

On the other hand, blaming a book or ideology for human behavior is like blaming a wrench for the mechanic's sloppy work. The Bible isn't at fault: our interpretation of the Bible is.

There are splinters of wisdom and insight embedded within the Bible but in order to glimpse them we must read the Bible symbolically, as it was always meant to be read. The problem is that many people interpret the Bible as a literal history of the universe and in doing so miss the truth contained within its pages.

What truth?

That humans are indeed special; that we were chosen by a higher power for a specific purpose; that we carry a shard of that higher power within ourselves; and, that this shard of the divine is key to  discovering our purpose and achieving happiness.

Best of all, this truth does not contradict reason or modern scientific understanding; to the contrary, the two sides, seemingly at odds, compliment each other remarkably well. Let's examine the statements listed above.

We are Special

This isn't hubris, folks. Just look around you for a moment. You see the cars driving by, buildings towering above, and planes shooting across the sky? Did gorillas make these wonders? Did ants? Fleas? Seagulls?

I'm not saying we're special as in "better" or "superior" to other animals, nor am I saying that we aren't animals: we most certainly are. When I say special, I only mean that we are otherwise different from what is usual. If humans are animals, and no other animal has come close to rivalling our accomplishments, then one cannot deny that we are somehow different.

What is it that distinguishes us from our animal relatives?

The ability to analyze, hypothesize, organize, predict, and override our biological programming. Combined, these allow us to literally rearrange the world around us into forms that serve our needs. Tables, street-signs, wheelchairs, pace-makers, computers, and every other human-made object on the planet was once raw material which we extracted and reshaped for our own purposes.

No other animal on earth can do this.

That's not to say that we should mistreat other animals or subject them to needless cruelty; only that we are indeed different from them. As you will see, the thing that makes us different also demands that we take care of one another and treat all lifeforms with dignity and respect.

We were Chosen

It's important not to get hung up on terminology here. When I say we were chosen by a higher power, I don't mean that we were hand-crafted by a bearded sky-father. I don't mean that a deity told us that earth and everything on it was ours to do with as we please.

When I say we were chosen, I mean that we are the product of evolution, which is also called natural selection. This implies that certain lifeforms are selected or chosen to survive, breed, and evolve further. And since we exist here and now, we can safely assume that we are among the races chosen by nature to survive and fulfill our purpose.

When I say higher power, I'm not referring to an anthropomorphic deity who judges and doles out punishment to his unruly children; I'm talking about the "superior reasoning power which is revealed in the incomprehensible universe," as Einstein put it. It's the pantheistic God, aka the Universe. Nature is simply the creative spirit organizing God's parts into ever more complex forms.

Humans just so happen to be the most complex form on earth and, in all likelihood, in the solar system. If that doesn't make us special, I don't know what does.

We have a Purpose

When comparing like objects, what leads us to judge one as superior to the other? For instance, what makes one type of car better or more valuable than another? Only this: that one fulfills its purpose more efficiently, beautifully, and effectively than the other.

If a garden produces an abundance of fruit and another very little, one will judge the first to be better than the second. It is because a garden serves a purpose: to bear fruit.

We hold in our minds ideas of what different things ought to do and prize those that do it best.

In order to discern our purpose as a species, we must look at the basic functions or traits of human beings. What are some hallmarks of humanity? What is unique about us? What do we do better than other animals?

In other words, what is our function?

First, we are social animals. This isn't a unique trait, of course. Most animals function in packs, tribes, colonies, etc. but no other species has devised such vast and complex social networks, nor leveraged them into a global civilization. No other animal has developed advanced methods of communication, nor the ability to contact others instantly across vast distances.

Second, and more importantly, we are reasoning animals. This, I believe, is the thing that also makes us special. Without the ability to recognize and analyze patterns, organize information, plan, predict, and rationalize, we would be no different from our cousins, the great apes.

There is no other trait that is uniquely ours. Everything else we do, every other skill or attribute we possess, exists in the animal world in greater abundance. We are not the strongest, fastest, or most resilient beast in the animal kingdom. Only reason allows us to reshape the world around us and more importantly, override our biological programming or instincts so that we may act rationally.

And so, in order to fulfill our purpose as human beings, we must first employ reason, our greatest tool, in all aspects of our lives and second concern ourselves with the common good of those around us.

The Divine is Within

If you agree with the above, this last one--which at first glance is probably the least believable of the bunch--becomes much easier to grasp.

The Universe is a higher power and Nature is the creative spirit that shapes and governs its parts. Using Nature, the Universe recycles and reinvents itself, moving from simplicity to complexity and manifesting itself into new forms.

Doesn't that sound a whole lot like what we do with our surroundings? We take existing matter in its crude form, refine it, reshape it, assemble it, and put it to work fulfilling some new purpose. It's this very ability that distinguishes us from other animals, and coincidentally, it is the very thing that drives the Universe along.

If we regard Nature as the intellectual force of the Universe, the thing that drives evolution in all its myriad forms, and we alone of all the animals on earth are capable of imitating the Universe, doesn't it stand to reason that we too must possess a fragment of the universal intellect?

That's what a bunch of ancient philosophers believed. They called this piece of the divine intellect the Logos and they claimed that only through it could humans find salvation.  Oddly enough, Christianity agrees with this notion. In the opening verses of John's Gospel, the author refers to the Logos by name, claiming that

In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

We later find out that the Logos came down to earth in the form a man named Jesus Christ, who tells us that he is "the way and the truth and the life" and that "no one comes to the Father" except through him.

The Father is none other than the wondrous Universe itself and the only way we can truly know God and find salvation is through the Logos, which dwells within each and every one of us.

Conclusion

We have inherited a great and powerful gift that no other animal on earth possesses. That makes us special, but not invincible, and it certainly doesn't give us the right to poison our beautiful planet or abuse the other lifeforms who dwell upon it.

We would do well to remember Uncle Ben's warning to a young Peter Parker: "With great power comes great responsibility."

Atheists like to point to the book of Genesis as the source of our reckless behavior and ego-centrism. What they ignore is the second chapter of this book, which retells the creation story from a slightly different perspective. Here we are told that God made us to look after his garden. In other words, we are the earth's caretakers, not its masters.

As such, we must look out for our home and all its inhabitants. We must strengthen reason in our minds and use it to govern our instincts and passions. We must banish ignorance and destroy greed. We must put our petty, superficial differences aside and look to one another for strength, love, and support.

Alone even the mightiest human can accomplish very little; but together, working coherently toward a set of common goals, we can finally stop worshiping imaginary gods and become gods ourselves.

Look around you again. Clearly we've already begun our transformation but our progress is hindered. Along with the Logos, we carry the baggage of our animal heritage--our tendencies toward tribalism, violence, competition, insecurity, and fear--and this burden threatens to grind our progress to a halt.

Only the light of the Logos can frighten the animal mind into its cage where it rightfully belongs.

The holy spirit isn't upon you: it's inside you. You need only awaken it to transform your life and the lives of those around you.

/rant over

Beginning of Salvation

You must discover yourself in the wrong before you can reform yourself. Some boast of their faults. Do you think that the man has any thoughts of mending his ways who counts over his vices as if they were virtues? Therefore, as far as possible, prove yourself guilty, hunt up charges against yourself; play the part, first of accuser, then of judge, last of intercessor. At times, be harsh with yourself.

-- Seneca the Younger

What happens when you suddenly realize that you were wrong, rude, stubborn, mean, ignorant, irrational, insensitive, or careless? Do you acknowledge your mistakes and resolve never to repeat them or do you deny their very existence? Do you yank the weeds out of your garden or allow them to choke out the flowers?

"The knowledge of sin," said the philosopher Epicurus, "is the beginning of salvation." At least it should be. For most people, the knowledge of sin is nothing more than an opportunity to practice denial and willful ignorance.

You'd think we would be relieved to discover our flaws. How is anyone supposed to improve if they never discover where they need improvement? How is anyone supposed to grow if they ignore every opportunity to do so?

The answer is simple: they're not.

Few deny that self-improvement is a worthwhile pursuit. No one wants to get worse at something. No one wants to go backward in life. Whether you're an athlete, parent, artist, carpenter, nurse, or salesperson, you should want to be the best--not the best in the world necessarily, nor even the best in your league, but rather the best you can be. In other words, you should want to reach your full potential. You should strive for excellence in everything you do, not to showboat or prove yourself better than others but because that's what you were made to do.

One way to be the best version of yourself is to build on the skills and positive qualities you already possess. People tend to have less difficulty walking this path. They understand that practice makes perfect, that hard work leads to results, so they train, study, and put in the hours.

But that's only half the job, and arguably, it's the least important half. No matter how hard you practice, no matter how good you get, your flaws and weaknesses will always hold you back.

Instead of focusing on what you can do better, why not figure out what you should stop doing? In case you haven't figured it out yet, we're back in "Know Thyself" territory here. In order to be excellent, you have to be ready to discover some unpleasant things about yourself.

I told my good friend this very thing and her reply was very insightful. She said, "I've been there before and I don't like the feeling. I don't like being exposed without my armor." What she calls her armor is actually her Ego, who fights off any and all uncomfortable revelations that come with authentic knowledge of self. What my friend doesn't know is that the skin beneath her "armor" offers more protection than the Ego ever will.

In fact, the Ego doesn't protect her at all: it protects itself. My friend just so happens to mistakenly identify the Ego as her authentic Self.

There's nothing like realizing that you've been a giant douche-bag for the majority of your life, especially if you spent those years believing you were a witty, charismatic, likable character. I'm not speaking generically here, folks. I'm talking from personal experience. When I write about knowing yourself and being mindful, I'm not preaching from on high. I'm in the trenches with you, my friends.

It's an ongoing and never-ending process.

Every night before bed, I reflect on the day's events like a detective investigating some petty criminal. I look for moments of selfishness, ignorance, insensitivity, and irrationality. Without fault, the process always uncovers some new flaw or questionable habit.

Face, meet palm.

The sting you feel in these situations is an unnecessary reaction. Unless you were being an asshole on purpose, why would you feel guilty? You were blissfully unaware of your moronic behavior. Now that you're aware of it, you can amend it.

These little revelations should bring relief, not shame or embarrassment. Each one is a lesson. Learn it and reduce your chances of backsliding. Do this over and over again. Yank the weeds out the moment they break ground and eventually they'll all but stop growing. You'll look back at the person you were a year ago with a mixture of wonder and relief.

You won't be a different person. To the contrary, you'll be more you than you've ever been. The authentic You--the reasonable, creative, loving You--will flourish. All the petty grievances, worries, grudges, and judgments are holding you back. Drop them and move on. You'll be thankful you did. 

Anyway, I had a nice little moment of douche-baggery at work just the other day. I belittled someone and dismissed their concerns without knowing it. I probably would've remained unaware too if it wasn't for my co-worker who just happened to overhear the exchange.

Now most of the time people don't tell you when you're being a jerk, or else they tell you in the worst possible way. Not my colleague. She very clearly, directly, and respectfully told me that I was being an asshole. I tried to justify my behavior. She listened and stated flat out that I was wrong.

I went back to my desk and mulled it over. Of course my colleague was right. I had been insensitive, inattentive, and dismissive. That wasn't my intention, of course, but it was the end product nonetheless. So I apologized to the person I had mistreated and when I ran into the colleague who had pointed out my thoughtless behavior, I thanked her too.

"What for?" she asked. I explained to her that she had been right--I had been an asshole--and that I probably wouldn't have realized it without her.

She was flabbergasted. "Most people have a hard time admitting that kind of stuff," she said.

Which is both true and a shame. We're all capable of self-awareness. We're all capable of dissolving the Ego and being free of psychological constraints. Like anything else, it takes practice and dedication.  It means stepping out of your comfort zone and exposing yourself to sometimes scary and often uncomfortable truths.

The payoff, though, is well worth it. It's nothing short of freedom--freedom from insecurity, aimlessness, and discomfort. You become at home in your body and mind.

You become you, which is the first and most important step to finding true, lasting Happiness.

/rant over 

Change

The company I work for recently got purchased. Right after the sale was announced, many of my co-workers were anxious. Would there be lay-offs? Would we lose benefits? Would our new owners change the way we operate? Were they going to absorb us into their much larger fold?

My colleagues and I were lucky. Our new owners were transparent, answered all our questions to the best of their abilities, and assured us that we would remain autonomous. They promised that wages and benefits would either remain the same or increase, but that under no circumstances would we find ourselves in a worse position than before the acquisition.

Despite these reassurances, many of my co-workers remained skeptical. What-ifs buzzed and swarmed throughout the office sewing anxiety and discontentment. Things that might happen weighed heavily on people's minds.

What if our new owners were lying? What if they turned around and did all the stuff they promised they wouldn't? What if, what if, what if? Seneca was bang-on when he said that "we suffer more from imagination than from reality."

Worrying about what might happen doesn't prevent it from becoming so. And even if the worst happens, the only thing that makes it "the worst" is your opinion, and you can ditch that anytime you like. Remove the judgment and what are you left with?

Change.

Change is constantly happening all around you whether you like it or not. Everything is in constant motion. Nothing stands still. All matter--whether stars, planets, or people--is subject to the universal cycle of birth, development, decline, dissolution, and rebirth.

For thousands of years philosophers and spiritual guides have been trying to tell us about this. They've warned us that the only constant is change, that life is brief, and that nothing is certain. In the 6th century BCE, Lao Tzu, the founder of Taoism, said

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.

Little did Lao Tzu know just how right he was. It wasn't until modern science came on the scene that the ever-changing state of the universe truly came into focus.

All around us, entropy is prying apart the atomic bonds that hold stuff together. Matter assumes form temporarily, shaped by God's invisible hands, before it is reabsorbed and reassembled into new forms. Marcus Aurelius advised:

Observe constantly that all things in life occur by change, and accustom yourself to consider that the nature of the universe loves nothing so much as to change the things that are, and to make new things like them.

The universe is a machine that recycles itself into ever increasing complexity. It uses the bones of dead stars to craft new stars, planets, moons, asteroids, gasses, liquids, and organic matter.

We short-lived humans are especially susceptible to entropy. We wage a never-ending battle against decay, feeding fuel into our meat-vehicles and causing them to grown and regenerate. As a result, there isn't a piece of you here and now that existed when you were a child. Your entire body has recycled and remade itself on a number of occasions. That's why Heraclitus said that

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.

Heraclitus, an influential pre-Socratic philosopher who lived in Greece between  535 and 475 BCE, also said that “nothing endures but change” and "All entities move and nothing remains still."

Some change feels unpleasant, painful, or unjust, but those feelings are generated by your mind and have no basis in objective reality. If you can do anything to prevent or mitigate what you perceive to be negative change, take action; if nothing can be done, then accept the hand God dealt you. What good is there in resisting what already is, especially if it cannot be changed? You would do better to take Aurelius' advice to

Adapt yourself to the things among which your lot has been cast and love sincerely the fellow creatures with whom destiny has ordained that you shall live.

In other words, make the best of every situation you find yourself in. If it is unpleasant and can be altered, do so; of it cannot be changed, of if you tried and failed to change it, accept it with every fiber of your being. 

In a universe that "loves nothing more than to change the things that are," it stands to reason we shouldn't get too attached to anything. The loss of external things such as material wealth, possessions, and reputation should be expected as a matter of fact. "Loss," Aurelius assures us, "is nothing but change, and change is Nature's delight."

Wise man and stellar beard.

View your earthly possessions as being on loan from the universe. Whenever you come by some precious item, large sum of money, prestigious position, or anything of the like, recite the following: "Receive without conceit, release without struggle."

Knowing full well that the universe is change, and that loss is merely a kind of change, you ought to place little value on material possessions. If you don't believe Marcus Aurelius or the other wise fellows I've quoted in this post, then at least listen to the man who died for your sins:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal.

Treasure that which is and will always be yours. Be happy with what you have, imagine how life would such without them, and expect to lose it all at any moment.

"Wealth," Epictetus tells us, "consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.”

Resisting change is like swimming against a strong current. You might succeed for a time but the river will inevitably exhaust and sweep you along any way it likes. Instead of resisting, ride the current in the direction you wish to go and accept where you end up without resentment, regret, or anxiety.

Your circumstances are what they are; either change them or make the best of them. 

/rant over

Gospel of Seneca (Letters from the Past III)

I'm not gonna lie: I have a serious man-crush on Lucius Seneca.

His insights into human behavior are painfully accurate and just as valid now as they were nearly 2,000 years ago. Dude's a poet, too. He sprinkles vivid imagery and allegories throughout his letters, helping readers grasp ideas that might otherwise elude them. The word "epic" is terribly overused these days but I can think of no better way to describe Seneca's writing.

Seneca's philosophy really speaks to me, but lately it's his spiritual side that gets me inspired. His theology is a fascinating blend of pantheism and pagan spirituality layered with Christian overtones. He uses words like "God" and "heaven" liberally, regards earthly matters as secondary to spiritual ones, and believes that the human soul can be liberated from the body.

Despite the apparent similarities between Christianity and Seneca's Gospel, there is no mistaking Seneca's God with its Biblical counterpart, Yahweh.

Seneca's God is the pantheistic God, aka Nature, aka the universe. It's the intelligent force organizing matter into ever more complex forms, of which we are the pinnacle. 

Likewise, Seneca's soul is radically different from the winged ghost that rises from your corpse and floats peacefully up to heaven after you die.

Or, not so peacefully?

According to the Stoic philosophers, reason is a divine gift, a fragment of the universal programming that keeps the machine running smoothly. As such, Seneca swaps the word "soul" with other terms such as "ruling faculty" or "Logos." He could just as easily call it "mind" or "consciousness," as far as I'm concerned. The semantics aren't that important.

Because he believes that the mind is of divine origin, Seneca holds the material world in somewhat low esteem. This opinion extends by default to the meat-vehicles we inherit at birth. This body of ours, Seneca says,

is a weight upon the soul and a penance; as the load presses down the soul is crushed and is in bondage, unless philosophy has come to its assistance and has bid it take fresh courage by contemplating the universe, and has turned it from things earthly to things divine. 

Note the abrupt departure from Christianity. Whereas Christians believe that only Christ can save one's soul, Seneca believes philosophy is the guide to spiritual freedom.

The soul, imprisoned as it has been in this gloomy and darkened house, seeks the open sky whenever it can, and in the contemplation of the universe finds rest. The wise man, the seeker after wisdom, is bound closely to his body, but he concentrates his thoughts upon lofty things.

Reflecting on the universe frees your consciousness from its prison of flesh and allows it to roam among the lofty things where it may find enlightenment. One who has begun this process of spiritual liberation finds their priorities radically realigned:

Bound so to speak, to his oath of allegiance, he regards the period of life as his term of service. He is so trained that he neither loves nor hates life; he endures a mortal lot, although he knows that an ampler lot is in store for him. 

Such a message will sound backward to someone entrenched in our materialistic society. Why waste time pursuing wisdom and contemplating the cosmos? Why not focus on reality, on the tangibles, on the here and now? As always, Seneca answers with brilliance:

Mortal things decay, fall, are worn out, grow up, are exhausted, and replenished. Reason, however, is nothing else than a portion of the divine spirit set in a human body. 

And then:

Must I be ignorant of the heights whence I have descended? Whether I am to see this world but once, or to be born many times? What is my destination afterwards? What abode awaits my soul on its release from the laws of slavery among men? Do you you forbid me to have a share in heaven?

In other words, do you bid me live with my head bowed down? No, I am above such an existence; I was born to a greater destiny than to be a mere chattel of my body. And I regard this body as nothing but a chain, which manacles my freedom.

Not only does Seneca view the body as secondary to the mind, he goes one step further and identifies it as a form of imprisonment. Epictetus, another Stoic, says: "You are a little soul carrying around a corpse." The body, in other words, is luggage, a burden, an anchor weighing down your soul.

I must restate that Seneca and other Stoics don't promote mistreating or neglecting the body: quite the opposite, they value a life of self-discipline, exercise, and proper diet. The body houses the Logos, after all, a piece of God, and as such should be well-maintained. Seneca is simply saying that the body should serve the mind, not the other way around:

World-matter corresponds to our mortal body; therefore let the lower serve the higher. Let us be brave in the face of hazards. Let us not fear wrongs, or wounds, or bonds, or poverty. 

That last bit is also stated by Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew, by the way, when he advises us not to "fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."

The physical world is always pressing us to take action. We scramble and toil to stay afloat and in the process neglect the single most important thing in our lives: our mind. Take a little time out of your day to exercise this gift which you have received from the universe.

Don't let society stifle your curiosity. Send your thoughts outward to explore the wonders of the cosmos. Answer every question that crosses your mind. Contemplate your place and purpose in this vast and glorious universe and you will find the world in which you dwell changed forever.

/rant over

Inner Citadel

The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts: therefore, guard accordingly, and take care that you entertain no notions unsuitable to virtue and reasonable nature.

--Marcus Aurelius 

Your mind can be an impenetrable fortress. Within its walls you can escape suffering and store the weapons you have acquired along life's journey. From its lofty battlements you can widen your perspective and see distant objects unseen by the masses.

Notice how I keep saying "can?"

In order to make your mind a fortress, you must first ensure that it is free of disturbances. By that I mean free of misery, anxiety, restlessness, anger, dissatisfaction, jealousy, and pride. The tranquil mind is indeed an inner citadel, but the disturbed mind is a prison cell.

It doesn't protect its owner; it enslaves him.

You've undoubtedly met people who are prisoners of their minds. They express unfounded opinions and beliefs as absolutes, take great pride in material achievements, deny or are unaware of their shortcomings, identify with falsehoods, act without regard or consideration for others, make poor life-decisions, and are ruled by emotions. They whine and complain, wish for things that aren't so, and are perpetual victims. They are quick to take credit and quicker yet to deflect blame.

Does this sound familiar? Does this sound like you?

If so, don't be embarrassed. Embarrassment is one of those disturbances that prevents you from reclaiming your inner citadel.

If you suspect you might be a prisoner of your mind, don't beat yourself up; rejoice instead!

How can you free yourself from a prison you don't even know exists? Once you realize that you're a prisoner, you can start working on your escape plan. But before you do, let's talk about how you got yourself locked up in the first place.

Your mind is home to a plethora of ideas and memories, judgments and opinions, beliefs and emotions. As these objects crowd into your inner citadel, they obscure the real you. The Christian mystic Meister Eckhart expresses this beautifully:

A human being has so many skins inside, covering the depths of the heart. We know so many things, but we don't know ourselves! Go into your own ground and learn to know yourself there.

When the mind can't pick its owner out of the crowd, it starts identifying with the crowd instead. It starts to identify with thoughts, feelings, memories, actions, possessions, talents, and achievements, all of which are not you.

These false identities combine to form a distorted version of the authentic You, a grotesque doppelganger that will do anything to exert its will over your thoughts and behaviour. Say hi to the Ego!

That Ego is a real motherfucker.

Who do you think tricked you into handing over the keys to the castle? Who do you think lured you into prison and convinced you it was your proper place?

This begs the question: if you're not the body at your disposal, the sum of the roles you play in life, or the summary of your skills, beliefs, and traits, then who are you really?

What defines you?

You cannot truly become master of your mind until, in Meister Eckhart's words, you tear away the skins that cover the depths of your heart. The walls of your prison are made up of false identities and the Ego acts as the warden, but you can rid yourself of both at any time.

The only power they hold over you is the power you have inadvertently given them.

Dig down through the labels and falsehoods and you will hit the bedrock: the real and authentic You. And would it shock you to learn that the authentic You is actually just a single You shared by all humanity? How could it be otherwise?

Peel back all the superficial bullshit and what's left is the objective Self, the observer, the ruling faculty, the Logos.

Maybe I'm getting a little too deep here. Let's pull back to the topic at hand: transforming the prison of your mind into your personal fortress.

The following two tricks can help you assume control of your inner citadel: mindfulness and presence.

I've mentioned mindfulness before: it's the act of keeping a detailed inventory of your thoughts, feelings, and opinions. I recently found out that mindfulness techniques like the ones described in Buddhism and Stoicism are being used to successfully treat Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, so it's legit.

Presence just means being present. It means no more time-traveling. Stop fixating on negative experiences from your past; don't fret over things that may or may not happen in the future. Learn from your past, plan for the future, but be present.

Mindfulness and presence will help you recognize the Ego's voice and deal with it accordingly. The more you catch yourself engaging in negative thought-patterns, the easier it becomes to prevent those patterns from taking over. The more you connect negative thoughts and emotions to your false self, the harder it is for the lie to remain intact.

One day, the Ego will just shut up.

Don't let the silence fool you, however: the Ego is still around, and it's a crafty sonofabitch. The whole time you think you've got it under control, it's plotting to take charge again. It's biding its time, watching, and learning how to bypass your defences. And when it does, you'll find yourself in that familiar cell without a clue of how you got there or how to get out.

In these situations, it's important to have a guide, mentor, or coach to show you the way out. Some people look to Jesus, Buddha, or Muhammad for guidance; others read self-help books. Even Homer Simpson has a guide!

Who is your Space Coyote?

And while you're at it, why limit yourself to just one? Why not put together a dream-team of guides and mentors? Whoever you decide to enlist for the job, just make sure they are always close by.

You never know when the Ego might spring a trap on you.

/rant over

Mantra

Whenever you feel anxious, worried, inadequate, helpless, or overwhelmed, let this be your mantra: to make the best out of every situation and do the best you can with what you're given.

Repeat your mantra. Let it be your prayer, your incantation, your spell of protection.

Nothing else matters. Everything else is superfluous. Here's why.

The things in your life can be divided into three categories: the stuff that's completely outside of your control, the stuff that's partially in your control, and the stuff that's entirely in your control.

If an asteroid slams into the earth right now, for example, that's out of your control. Likewise, if a tornado comes screaming through your neighborhood, or if an earthquake brings your house down on your head, or if the global economy crashes, you can't do anything to stop it.

99.999999% of the universe is unknown and the .000001% we know about is mostly random chaos. Don't waste energy worrying about what might happen, or what has already happened. Instead, recite your line: do your best with what you're given.

People around the world experience natural disaster, war, poverty, and disease on a daily basis. How do they deal with such hardships? They mourn. They endure. They pick up the pieces. They march through horror, oppression, and atrocity. But more importantly, they persevere.

They do their best with what the universe has given them, even when what they've been given sucks. Some people get dealt a terrible hand right off the start. Others never get to play their cards because some warlord comes in and butchers their entire family or a tsunami sweeps everyone they knew into the sea.

Did these people worry beforehand? Would it matter if they did? No. What matters is that bad stuff went down and they dealt with the situation as best they could.

Now some things can be harnessed but not fully controlled. They can be tamed, sometimes briefly, sometimes barely, and be made to work for you. These things are fleeting and fickle. They are never completely secure in your grasp, so if you start to depend on them for a sense of self or happiness, you're definitely going to be bummed out sooner or later.

If you apply for a job, for example, you can partially control the outcome. Your appearance, mannerisms, and words can all contribute to your getting the gig. You have control over those things.

The person interviewing you, on the other hand, is a wildcard. You cannot predict with any real accuracy how they will perceive you. Certainly dressing the part and being prepared are good ways to stack the deck in your favor, but what if you remind your future boss of someone they despise? What if you make an offhand comment that somehow offends them? What if they don't like your cultural background, belief system, way of speaking, tone of voice, or any other number of things you can't anticipate?

The key in these types of situations is to identify the things you control and focus all your energy into them. Everything else is merely a distraction that will throw you off the only mission that counts: using the tools at your disposal to deal with each situation as it comes, without trepidation, dread, anger, or bitterness.

So what do you control, anyway? 

The thoughts in your head, the words that come out of your mouth, and the actions you take; those are the only things you have full control over.

That's it. Everything else is either only partially in your control or completely outside of it.

By focusing your energy into the things you can control, you do what everyone else is doing--the best they can--only better. We all cope with tragedy, misfortune, illness, and irritations, only most of us do it poorly and on a subconscious level. We let our conscious mind get bogged down with useless thoughts ("I wish this person were alive again;" "I wish the pain would go away;" "why does this always happen to me?") when we should be putting it to work on the one thing that matters: the present moment.

Overcoming whatever challenge is in front of you. Making the best out of a bad situation. Learning from past mistakes and moving forward without emotional luggage.

Doing the best with what you're given means taking the hand you were dealt--your biological, cultural, and personal identity, all of which was formed without your consent--and honing it to a fine edge. It means constantly working at being the best possible you there is, weeding out flaws, irrational beliefs, judgments, and biases, while fortifying your best qualities.

You may not be able to control much, but by controlling what you can--yourself--you're doing the next best thing. You're inoculating yourself against the external world. No matter what happens, whether death, disaster, misfortune, failure, betrayal, or loss, you know that you have done everything in your power to prepare for and deal with it optimally.


You'll still grieve. You'll still know moments of frustration, anger, and spite. But you will have a tight leash on such emotions. You will be able to dismiss them back into the basement at a moment's notice.

And suddenly, your sense of self-worth and happiness will cease to depend on external conditions. You will learn to do as Seneca said, to praise the quality within yourself, the quality "which cannot be given or snatched away, that which is peculiar" to you and you alone.

Each one of us is riding the same wave--the present moment--as it rushes forward; behind this wave is the past and before it, the future. Only the present moment is yours and it will sweep you along helplessly unless you learn to ride it. If you master yourself you will become like a surfer, carving a path along the wave's edge and taking it where you wish.

Remember your mantra. Make the best out of every situation; do the best with what you're given. Focus on the things within your grasp and watch as the universe bends to your will.

/rant over

Lost Souls (Letters from the Past II)

When I was 21, I thought the only way to establish my identity as an adult was to move away. In order to make a name for myself and carve out a place in the real world, I thought I had to go work in a foreign country or cut my teeth in the Big City.

Call it wanderlust, a misguided sense of adventure, or just foolish youth.

Luckily I came to my senses before buying a plane ticket. I was still living at home at the time; my mom cooked all my meals and still did my laundry. Hell, she even made my bed.

Who was I kidding? I could never make it on my own in a distant land and I knew it.

The urge to strike out on your own and make a fresh start is most common. It's the remnant of a long-lost rite of passage. It symbolizes your break from parental custody, your first attempt to stand on your own.

I've known many people who, in their youth, went far and wide across provinces, countries, and continents. Some had very good reasons: they pursued job offers, rejoined loved ones, or answered the call to adventure. Others, like myself, sought some missing piece in their lives. Restless and incomplete, they travelled to resolve internal conflicts they could barely understand.

They thought to escape hardship or find happiness, that elusive prize at the top of everyone's wish-list.

Oh ye restless wanderers!

You probably know what I'm going to say next but I'll say it again: happiness isn't out there; it's inside each and everyone of us, and until we find it there, treasures will turn to ash in our hands.

Seneca the Younger, the Stoic philosopher who doubled as emperor Nero's tutor and adviser in the first century CE, shared a similar view. In a letter to his globe-trotting friend Lucilius, Seneca wrote the following:

Are you surprised, as if it were a novelty, that after such long travel and so many changes of scene, you have not been able to shake off the gloom and heaviness of your mind? You need a change of soul rather than a change of climate.

If you've fallen for this trick of the mind before, don't feel bad: Seneca's letter is proof that people have been chasing happiness ineffectually for centuries. Seneca's tongue-lashing is only beginning though. He goes on:

Why do you wonder that globe-trotting does not help you, seeing that you always take yourself with you? The reason which set you wandering is ever at your heels. 

Traveling won't make you happy because you always take the source of your unhappiness with you: yourself.

What pleasure is there in seeing new lands? In surveying cities and spots of interest? All your bustle is useless. Do you ask why such flight does not help you? It is because you flee alongside yourself. You must lay aside the burdens of the mind; until you do this, no place will satisfy you.

Until you get your mind right and find happiness within yourself, you wont find any pleasure in exotic destinations or world-famous landmarks. In fact, Seneca believes that such travels will only aggravate you further:

You wander hither and yon to rid yourself of the burden that rests upon you, though it becomes more troublesome by reason of your restlessness, just as in a ship the cargo when stationary makes no trouble, but when it shifts to this side and that, it causes the vessel to heel more quickly in the direction where it has settled.

If, on the other hand, you learn to know and love yourself, live in accordance to nature, and fulfil your purpose in this world,

all change of scene will become pleasant; though you may be driven to the uttermost ends of the earth, in whatever corner of a savage land you find yourself, that place, however forbidding, will be to you a hospitable abode. 

Once you achieve internal happiness, you find joy in every place. You learn to see the beauty that surrounds you. Your gripes fade or vanish altogether. Quarrels cease to plague your mind. Troublesome emotions appear with decreasing frequency until the mind becomes perfectly still.

As it is, however, you are not journeying; you are drifting and being driven, only exchanging one place for another, although that which you seek--to live well--is found everywhere.

And then, to summarize, Seneca drops this gem:

The person you are matters more than the place to which you go.

I believe it was Too $hort, the prolific Oakland rapper, who said "It ain't where you from/it's how you do it where you at." How remarkably Stoic of him!

Lastly, Seneca beckons us to

Live in this belief: "I am not born for any one corner of the universe; this whole world is my country."

The carrot at the end of your stick doesn't have to be a distant shore. It can be a bigger house, a younger wife, a better job, whatever. The principle laid out by Seneca applies in all of these situations. Before seeking happiness externally, assess your own internal condition.

How can you experience joy if your heart is joyless? How can you love another if you don't love yourself?

After setting yourself straight, you will find yourself suddenly surrounded by blessings.

"Where did they come from?" you will ask. They were crowding around you this whole time; you simply lacked the ability to see and appreciate them.

/rant over

Letters from the Past

Writers are time-traveling telepaths. They encode their ideas and send them into the future. Readers receive these messages, decode the squiggly symbols on the page or screen, and hear the author's words recited in their heads. It doesn't matter whether the messages were written down weeks, months, or years ago: it always reaches the reader in the present.

This isn't always a one-way street, either. Some literary works provide readers with a window into the author's mind, offering insights into the social and psychological conditions that shaped it. Through such works readers get to experience bygone eras, extinct cultures, and the ideas that populated both, all through the author's eyes.

These works allow readers to be time-traveling telepaths, too!

That's certainly how I feel when I read Seneca's Letters from a Stoic. 

This excellent book is a collection of letters written by the philosopher Seneca to his friend Lucilius, the procurator of Sicily. In his letters, Seneca offers his friend advice on a wide range of topics pertinent to Romans living in first century CE.

What fascinates me the most about these letters is their relevance today. It appears that the human condition hasn't changed much in the 2,000 years since Seneca put pen to parchment. We traded gladiator games for pro sports, Latin for English, and slaves for the middle class, but our concerns remain the same.

We're anxious about the future. We struggle to make meaningful connections with others. We seek purpose and strive to be happy. We attempt to maintain a work-life balance.

If our concerns are timeless, so too is Seneca's advice on how best to deal with them. But more on that later. First, let's meet Lucius Annaeus Seneca, aka Seneca the Younger.

Living at the very dawn of the Roman Empire (4BCE - 65CE), Seneca wore many hats. He was a dramatist, statesman, and philosopher. He wrote a dozen plays and a number of philosophical essays and letters. He also tutored Nero and served as the emperor's adviser for 15 years.

Fun fact: Seneca's philosophical writings had a profound influence on early Christianity and he was well-loved by early church leaders. Tertullian, the father of Latin Christianity, called him "Our Seneca." In the Middle Ages, he made posthumous appearances in the works of Chaucer and Dante. Some Medieval writers even claimed that Seneca converted to Christianity before his death, though no proof of this exists beyond the accounts themselves.

One need not look far to see how Seneca influenced Christian scripture and theology. He often writes his letters with a scathing moral authority so that his "advice" to poor Lucilius comes off sounding more like preaching. For example, when Lucilius complains that he can't trust some of his friends, Seneca responds:

But if you consider any man a friend whom you do not trust as you trust yourself, you are mightily mistaken and you do not sufficiently understand what true friendship means.

Ouch.  Or this:

He who begins to be your friend because it pays will also cease because it pays.

Seneca doesn't sugar coat a damn thing!

He also brings a bit of controversy to the table. While preaching self-restraint, discipline, and the insignificance of material wealth, Seneca supposedly had numerous illicit affairs with married women and accumulated a vast fortune under Nero's rule. While in exile, Seneca also wrote pleading letters that contradicted Stoic tenets like accepting one's fate and finding joy in the simple life.

Robin Campbell, one of Seneca's translators, summarizes the above succinctly when he writes that "the stock criticism of Seneca [has been] the apparent contrast between his philosophical teachings and his practice."

There's one final intrigue surrounding Seneca's letters: they are completely one-sided. Even though he often makes reference to something his friend wrote in a previous letter, none of Lucilius' letters have ever been found.

In fact, there isn't a shred of proof that Lucilius existed outside of Seneca's letters. As procurator of Sicily, there ought to be some record of Lucilius out there, but no luck.

This has led some to question Lucilius' existence, and rightfully so. Philosophers in the Hellenic world were fond of writing dialogues between fictional characters in order to advance their points. Add to this the fact that Seneca was a famous playwright and the case for a fictional Lucilius becomes even stronger.

I don't think that Seneca was a hypocrite preaching what he couldn't practice; rather, I believe he was a flawed genius trying to reinforce his Stoicism by writing letters to himself. Interestingly enough, this is exactly what Marcus Aurelius did in his Meditations, which were originally entitled "To Myself."

Through Lucilius, Seneca strengthens his own resolve. He draws on his flaws, weaknesses, and past experiences to outline a path to the good life. There is no contradiction between Seneca's lifestyle and seemingly contradictory message: he is simply reminding himself of the facts, so easily forgotten in the face of wealth, fame, and power.

Seneca is doing what we should all do: honestly examining his past, learning lessons, and improving his future.

When Seneca says that "the acquisition of riches has been for many men, not an end, but a change, of troubles," he is speaking from personal experience.

That Seneca might have been incapable of practicing what he preached does not tarnish the wisdom, beauty, and truth of his words. Those who cannot do, teach, and Seneca has proven himself to be a most excellent teacher.

Seneca and the Stoic philosophers of Rome were onto something. They had uncanny insights into the human mind and I'm convinced that their ideas are just as pertinent today as they were 2,000 years ago. I will try to pass some of Seneca's lessons down through a series of Seneca-inspired blog posts in the weeks to come. I hope you will find as much value in them as I have.

Sometimes ancient solutions are needed to solve modern problems.

/rant over

Whiners Never Win

"I don't feel good."

"I'm so tired."

"My boss never listens to my suggestions."

"My husband never cleans up after himself."

"I got passed up for a promotion, again."

"Why are people so [insert negative adjective here]?"

"Why does this always happen to me?"

Do words like these come out of your mouth (or crowd your thoughts) on a regular basis? These are the symptoms of Toxic Mind, a highly contagious condition afflicting millions of people worldwide.

Never heard of Toxic Mind? Sure you have. You just might know it under its synonym: being a whiner.

You don't want to be a whiner, do you? Always complaining, playing the victim, and blaming others for your problems? You know that moaning, bitching, and whining only worsen your problems, and yet you continue as if you are helpless, a slave to your condition.

Canadian FWP

Don't worry: there is a cure for Toxic Mind. You can reprogram yourself. You can train yourself to think more efficiently. Consider this an intervention!

The stuff I'm about to tell you is going to sound like common sense, and rightfully so. Understanding how the remedy works is easy; the real challenge is implementation. It's going to take practice and hard work, and even then you will backslide. But so long as you keep the principles I'm about to teach you firmly in mind, you will never contract Toxic Mind again.

Before we get started, let's confirm your diagnosis.

What is a whiner?

A whiner is the victim of endless misfortunes, tragedies, and injustices. Quick to assign blame externally, a whiner never turns a critical eye inward. He never attempts to identify the common denominator underlying all his problems: himself. Accountable for nothing, he spends his days fuming and stewing over slights both real and imagined, poised between discontentment and indignation.

The root of a whiner's problem is mental weakness. Accustomed to getting what she wants without resistance, the mere hint of adversity, of things not going precisely how she wants them to, sends her into a downward spiral.

She may have been an optimist once but "the soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts" and her thoughts have become increasingly toxic. The more she indulges poisonous ideas, the deeper she plunges into whiner territory.

The whiner never wins; not because he never succeeds but because his Toxic Mind prevents him from appreciating his success. Instead of celebrating, he greets victory by focusing on its downside or the fact that things could've worked out better than they did.

Is this you?

If you're genuinely considering the question, congratulations: you're on the path to knowing yourself! The journey has its rough patches but be brave: you're one step ahead of the rest and more importantly, one step closer to self-improvement.

Just a side-note: you don't have to be a whiner in order to benefit from the forthcoming remedy. If you ever feel anxious, stressed, angry, jealous, bitter, vexed, frustrated, irritated, or perturbed, and would like to get a handle on these toxic emotions, the following is for you.

***

The remedy to your woes can be found in the Serenity Prayer made famous by 12-step programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. It goes:

God grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

Now because I know a lot of my readers are godless heathens, here's another version from the Roman philosopher Epictetus:

"Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us. Our opinions are up to us, and our impulses, desires, aversions. Our bodies are not up to us, nor are our possessions, our reputations, or our public offices."

Some things are within our power to change while others are not. What Epictetus and the Serenity Prayer tell us is that we should distinguish between the two and focus our energies on the things we can change, taking the rest as it happens.

That last part might make you uncomfortable. Is Epictetus telling you to bear misfortune, tragedy, insult, and injustice without fighting back? To take the bad stuff passively, "as it happens?"

Of course not. The quote opens with "make the best use of what is in your power," meaning that if you have the ability to improve a situation, mitigate damage done, or resolve a conflict, you should do just that.

What use is whining when you can eliminate the source of your whining?

Do not whine: act.

What about the things that are completely beyond your control? Are you expected to bear these without flinching?

Not immediately, no. But with some practice you may eventually learn to silence the useless grumblings of your mind. Next time something vexes you, remember the following:

"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself but to your own estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”

If you have done everything in your power to resolve a problem and your efforts have fallen short, or if an unforeseen tragedy or disaster has befallen you, you still have power over your own mind and the ability to move on without letting it poison your thoughts.

You always have a choice. You can suffer the effects of misfortune and let it spoil your mood for hours, days, months, or even years to come; or you can suffer the effects of misfortune, learn whatever lesson you can from it, and move on.

Remember that your mind generates the reality you experience. No one else sees what you see, hears what you hear, or thinks what you think. By changing the way you perceive the world, you alter your reality.

Or as Buddha put it, "All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world."

Thanks Buddha!

Once you train yourself to distinguish between the things you can control and the things you can't, you will find yourself transformed.

Insults will fly harmlessly past you--you can't control what people think or say about you, so why let it perturb you?

Setbacks and obstacles will become challenges and lessons--might as well derive some benefit from  otherwise negative experiences, right?

Lastly, the difficult people in your life will become sparring partners--who better to help you practice your new-found mindset than those who cause you distress?

So quit whining. If you can improve a situation, do so. If, on the other hand, nothing can be done, learn from the experience and move on with your life.

The list of things outside your control is exhaustive. Luckily for you, the only thing you need control over is yours and yours alone.

Learn to use your mind properly and you will have no need to whine or complain.

/rant over

Morning Prayer

"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

Your existence is a miracle.

Before your conception, you were unfulfilled potential, a little angel awaiting its moment of manifestation alongside a million other hopefuls. What if another had reached the Gates before you, crossing after nine months the threshold into this vast and mysterious universe? Another would be here in your stead and you would be in the aether, formless, without voice or body.

Now think that your mother and father both overcame similar odds, and each of their parents, so on and so forth, ever backward, every step increasing the odds against your existence by millions.

And yet here you are.

What are these complaints, gripes, aches, irritations, discomforts, and desires when weighed against your very existence? These are the symptoms of life. They should be celebrated, not despised.

This is your brief moment of awareness, your one and only chance to make a contribution to the human masterwork of which you are but a tiny part. Like a cell you will soon deteriorate and crumble away, to be replaced by another while your parts are dispersed into the cosmos.

“What we do now echoes in eternity.” You will soon return to the transcendent, to the realm of unrealized potential to await whatever the universe has in store for you. What will you leave behind on this cosmic spec of dust? Will you slide off into the aether, forgotten within a generation or two? Or will you leave a lasting mark, something tangible that carries your legacy forward?

Will you, at the moment of your demise, regret that you lived poorly, that you wasted your time on meaningless pursuits while harboring grudges and fueling anxieties without purpose? Or will you sigh contently, knowing that you did everything in your power to play your part to the best of your abilities?

Appreciate all that life has bound to you and remember that your presence on this earth is a miracle worth celebrating.

Amun.

Tools

Life is a struggle. At every turn you contend with forces that oppose you. In order to live, you must overcome these forces.

As Marcus Aurelius put it, "The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing."

Every day is a contest pitting you against opponents seen and unseen, known and unknown. You grapple with people, contend with natural forces, combat sickness and disease, and struggle to master your thoughts and emotions.

The forces swirling around you are largely out of your control and inconsiderate to your wants and needs. In all the chaos of life, only one thing is completely within your custody: your mind.

Luckily for you, it is the only thing you need.

"The mind," as John Milton said, "is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."

The carpenter has his hammer, chisel, and saw; with these he hews the wood and bends it to his will. Your mind is your tool box. The tools of your trade are stored in it: the skills, talents, ideas, knowledge, and relationships you have cultivated during your time on this earth.

Your toolbox is unique. No one else has the same combination of tools as you. The solution to every challenge you face, every task you tackle, and every obstacle barring your path resides with you.

There is no useless trivia, no obsolete skill. Every tool at your disposal serves a purpose: you need only find a way to employ it in your favor.

If you remember this and keep a detailed inventory of the tools in your possession, you will find that "What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters when compared to what lies within us."

Getting off the Hedonic Treadmill

Happiness isn't to be found in the world; it's an internal prize, a state of mind, a way of thinking. Once achieved, you stop worrying about the things you lack and start appreciating the things you have.

I grant you this definition of happiness will chafe many people. On the surface it sounds like a cop-out or workaround, a way to bypass a materialistic "happiness" in favour of a cheap, artificial replacement. "It's not true happiness if you have to trick yourself into experiencing it," a critic might say, and to that I would respond by asking how we ought to define happiness? Is it a brief spike of joy, triggered by some worldly achievement, that soon fades away only to be replaced by your usual gripes, complaints, and insatiable desires; or is it a permanent sense of tranquility devoid of negative emotions?

If you believe that the key to happiness lies in the acquisition of material goods or worldly success, I invite you to think about a time in your life when you desired something, committed time, energy, and resources to its pursuit, and succeeded in obtaining it.

Did it bring you joy?

Undoubtedly! For the first month after you purchase your Lamborghini (or whatever object you so desperately sought) you get school-girl giddy every time you think about it. You beam with pride when people gawk as you drive by. You get aroused by the primal roar of the engine.

But your excitement soon fades. The novelty wears off. What you worked so long and hard to obtain becomes just another acquisition, a burden that must be constantly cleaned, waxed, tuned-up, and maintained. The warm glow of happiness cools. You start looking for something bigger, faster, and more expensive to fill the void.

You're nothing more than a junkie chasing the rush of that first high, always upping the ante but to no effect.

In psychology, this phenomenon is called hedonic adaptation or, as I prefer, the Hedonic Treadmill.

You adapt to your conditions. When you obtain your latest prize, you experience temporary joy and satisfaction, but over time this prize becomes a part of your surroundings. The mere thought of it no longer excites you. Quite the opposite, you start to find flaws and inadequacies in it.

If a better version of your prize exists--a newer model, for example--you start plotting its acquisition all over again. If no better thing exists in its class, you may toss it aside and forget about it altogether, choosing to pursue something else entirely.

We're all guilty of it. I know I am. Once you hop on the hedonic treadmill, it's tough to get off. You run and run and run, chasing what you think is happiness via an endless list of things and goals.

You're just running in place.

Such pursuits are inherently hollow. Material goods can sometimes facilitate the achievement of internal happiness but they can also easily be lost, stolen, or confiscated. If your happiness depends on material goods, and material goods can easily slip from your grasp, then you are setting yourself up for misery.

And as we have seen, even if they do not get snatched away, these material goods quickly lose their luster.

As the philosopher Epictetus advises: "It is impossible that happiness, and yearning for what is not present, should ever be united."

Brickman, Coates, and Janoff-Bulman--the researchers who coined the term "hedonic treadmill"--conducted an interesting study which they published in a paper entitled "Lottery Winners and Accident Victims: Is Happiness Relative?" In the study they followed two groups: one composed of paraplegics, the other of lottery winners. They followed them from the time their fortunes turned--for the better or for the worse, depending on the group--and touched bases with them at regular intervals afterward.

They found that each participant, regardless of which group they belonged to, quickly returned to their hedonic "baseline" shortly after their accident or winning ticket. Sure, the people who became paralyzed suffered a great deal initially; likewise, the lottery winners experienced massive spikes of joy after winning. But in the end, they all returned to the same baseline.

If your external circumstances have no long-term effect on your happiness, then what does? The answer seems clear: your internal circumstances.

Instead of pursuing your desires, you should learn to desire what you already have.

Easier said than done? Absolutely. Most things worth doing are difficult and require practice. This is no different.

One way to gain an appreciation for what you have is to periodically imagine losing. Imagine various calamities and misfortunes befalling you such as the loss of your car, home, possessions, and loved ones. You don't have to spend every waking moment thinking about bad shit happening to you; just do it once or twice a day or whenever you have an idle moment.

Contemplating the loss of the things in your life will help you appreciate them all the more. You'll grow content with the way things are rather than wishing you had more of this or a different that or less of those.

This technique also prepares you for the misfortunes that will, at one point or another, most certainly befall you. By having seriously considered their occurrence, you inoculate yourself against their effects.

As Marcus Aurelius, my favourite Roman emperor, said: "He robs ills of their power who has perceived their coming beforehand."

I can't take credit for this neat little trick. It's called negative visualization and it was first devised by the Stoics of ancient Rome, whose philosophy of life applies today just as it did 2,000 years ago. Whereas modern philosophers concern themselves primarily with esoteric matters that have no bearing on the average person, the Stoics were concerned mainly with achieving a state of tranquility—that is, a state devoid of negative emotions—and living in harmony with the universe.

But more on the Stoics later.

The hedonic treadmill is one of several obstacles blocking your path to true happiness. The sooner you get off it, the better. Negative visualization is by no means the only way to curb the adaptation process but it is remarkably effective. By pondering the loss of those things we take for granted, we learn to see them in a new light, to appreciate them while also noting that they could be snatched from us at any moment.

Desire what you have and quit chasing the carrot. Be happy.

/rant over