This is the third part of my "Meditations on Meditations" series. In this case, it started as a journaling prompt. I thought it would mostly be about blowing off steam and moaning to myself about my inability to just do the whole Stoic outlook thing better. A bit unexpectedly, it turned into something much more serious and gave me a useful insight.
"Hard work and persistence,
Self-reliance, always cheerful,
Strength, perseverance, self-control"
--From "Self Control", Akira the Don & Marcus Aurelius
This song is ringing in my head, and I'm enthused but also frustrated. Like so many part of Stoicism, it seems simple enough. But as Clausewitz mused about war, putting the simple things into effect is complex.
Hard work - I am certainly capable of this, at least in spurts and under the right circumstances. I have been struggling during the lock down with harnessing what was, sometimes is, and should reliably be in the future, capacity for hard work.
As an abstract idea, the case for hard work is an easy one. Our culture venerates it, almost to excess -- statistics on America's relationship with sleep, unused vacation days, and other metrics show that we, if anything, overwork. The opposite of hard work, being lazy, is vilified as an unbecoming trait.
So where to draw the line? As with all things, moderation, or at least a sense of balance is called for. In sports, heavy periods of effort alternate with rest to generate growth--in muscle, speed, endurance, or any other trait. The same is true for us. We should prize hard work, then, but perhaps view it less as something to be celebrated for its intrinsic benefits than as a means to hopefully worthy ends.
Persistence - This is another enduring cultural value. We celebrate it in its form as "grit", understanding that it is in an important tool. The ability to persevere, to persist in the face of difficulties, is closely tied as well to the condition of resilience -- another important and valued trait.
Like everything, there is a shadow side to persistence. Uninformed or untempered by wisdom, insight, or a solid sense of ultimate intent, persistence turns dark. We become fixated on goals which are no longer sensible, or not achievable, or actively harmful to us. At a far extreme, this can turn into an addiction or unhealthy fixation. But even in its milder forms it can be profoundly unhelpful.
Self-reliance - I have a mixed relationship with this virtue. On the one hand, I seek to cultivate it in the form of a detachment, trying to learn to avoid handing my happiness over to external events or people--things over which I have no control.
It seems to me this is incredibly essential in an age when social media has invested so much energy in making it possible to effortlessly and endlessly torture ourselves with a perfectly curated streams ranging from glossy snapshots of others' allegedly perfect lives to bite-sized chunks of atavistic sadism.
Taken too far, though, self-reliance can cut us off from healthy and needed relationships. This is a trap I know well. Even the most antisocial of us have at our core some form of social need, and if we do not feed that core and satiate that need, we suffer.
Always cheerful - When I was younger and had a fully-formed and perfect knowledge of the world, I was deeply suspicious of people who were too cheerful. This is coming from someone whose mother once told them they'd always been an "old soul." I originally took this as a compliment, and excess cheerfulness as proof that person was clearly missing something about the world as it is.
Today, I have a bit different view. I am older, and understand a little more of how little I knew then (and now, for that matter.) I've started to see cheerfulness with a little more nuance. It seems to me now that the ability to be cheerful--or at least on an even keel--in the face of hardship is a great virtue. It is something which, I think, speaks well of those who can pull it off.
That said, I reserve the right to react poorly if you're cheerful before I'm caffeinated. Just saying.
Strength - This is another quality I've come to see differently as I've gotten older. This applies to both physical and emotional or mental strength. Physically, I see staying strong as an important step towards a healthy and balanced life. And the idea of being strong, in one's beliefs, ethical positions, and in response to the vagaries of life...that is another trait which we often celebrate but spend too little time developing.
I think it is particularly important to pursue this in moderation. It is an end, not a means. The awful results of pursing strength as a goal in itself and losing sight of the our broader values are written all over history, and we continue to mint new examples with each year.
Perseverance - I was curious about what subtle differences might exist between this and persistence, and looked up the definition of each. Two things jumped out at me. Persistence has moral and physical aspects, implying continuation after a cause is removed. Perseverance, on the other hand, seems to imply a kind of steadiness in the face of adversity.
So we may wish to live in a way which leaves, at least for a time, a persistent imprint on the world. (Ideally positive...) To do so, we must be prepared to persevere in our actions and beliefs in the face of whatever life throws at us. We should not preserve, though, in ways which cause us or others a greater harm.
Self-control - This is in a class by itself in the list of qualities Marcus wanted to remind himself to cultivate. It is, for me, the closest to a inherently good thing of all the qualities in this refrain. The four key virtues for a Stoic are wisdom, justice, temperance and justice. None of these can be reached without self-control.
One may have strength, persistence, perseverance, have a tremendous work ethic--but without self-control, the virtuous life will always be just outside our reach. Looking around the world today, it's tempting to conclude this is perhaps the one quality in the list that can't be overdone.
There is, though, a hint of paradox here. Excessive self-control, that is to say taken to the point of rigidity or paralysis, does not serve us either. We must recognize what is and what is not under our control. Unless we can also adapt as circumstances change, we will miss the proverbial boat and be as badly off as if we were too slack.
How do I rate myself on these traits? Mixed. It occurs to me, though, that I shouldn't be too quick to be harsh about this. None of these qualities are inherently good or bad. Their value exists in relation to the extent to or purpose for which they are used or pursued. They are best understood, and used, as steps towards or components of larger purposes.
I started contemplating this with the mindset of exploring how I probably have too little of any given trait. Certainly, I have plenty of room to improve how I embody all of these traits. I had expected an epiphany perhaps, on the order of "Ah, so I should just double down on THIS one!"
Instead, I come away from writing this with a renewed appreciation that none of these traits are wholly good or bad inherently. They are instruments, tools, to serve larger ends. As such, they can all be taken too far. I suppose in a way this has been a lesson in threading the needle between too much and too little of good things.
This is so timely for me, since I have been grappling with all of these things--but especially self-control. The lockdown and forced absence from work have been hard, and my instinct has been to press hard on my self-control buttons. Perhaps a better way to approach this is to take this as an axiom: all things in their time, and all in good measure.