Morning Metaphysics
I have had a few responses to my review of We Of Little Faith. Always hoped for. In this case, not entirely unexpected. More importantly, it was the genesis of several in person conversations. What struck me is that, while I am substantially the same person after posting the review as I was before, perceptions of who I am were altered. Earlier this week, I read this in Marilynne Robinson’s What Are We Doing Here? –
“We choose an utterance, a gesture. By these means we identify ourselves and, in the same moment, discover and create ourselves.”
The power of a few words to shape us and how others see us is remarkable. My confession, as it were, of my current views on the Bible, prayer, and Christians as a collective were not formed overnight. Ideas, thoughts, facts coalesced over years into something I could articulate. A process that will no doubt continue. I am thankful for friends to share that journey with. And books. Which are my friends, too, of sorts.
A few months into retirement, I noticed my mornings were missing something, more than just the alarm I no longer used to disrupt my dark mornings. (Though I am sometimes still slumbering when Mrs. Robidoux’s alarm chimes). Then, last fall, I came across Six Ways to Start Early and Lift Your Mood by Arthur C. Brooks in The Atlantic. [Sorry, subscription required...]
I discovered I was already on board with five of his six suggested practices, which are: 1. Experience the brāhma muhūrta [Get up early], 2. Get physical [exercise], 3. Get metaphysical, 4. The magic bean. [coffee], 5. Tryptophan time [protein], 6. Get into the flow.
My exception was number three: ‘Get metaphysical’. Brooks goes to daily Catholic Mass. When I read his article, my morning ritual consisted of reading a financial blog and a tech blog with breakfast. Yeah. Kind of sad. So, what to do for “focused meditation or prayer” as Brooks identified it? Well, I thought, there must be SOMETHING in my library that will engage me with transcendent good or truthfulness. Something old, like the Bible. A book with wisdom. But, something that I was mostly unfamiliar with that would feel fresh to me.
Decades ago, I was discovering ‘great books’ and picked up a handful from the library used book store – a favorite haunt of mine. They were:The Iliad and The Odyssey (Homer), Five Great Dialogues (Plato), On Man In The Universe (Aristotle), Meditations (Marcus Aurelius). I admired the sturdy buckram covers, the gold embossing on red and black. I was sure everyone who saw my home library would be impressed, too. All three of them.
In any case, last October, I plucked Meditations from the shelf and blew the dust off. The title alone recommended it! I committed to making the musings of a long-dead Roman emperor my daily companion to see what happened. I had read it once before, but not in a meditative mode. More in the ‘I can check one more great book off my list’ mode. This time, my plan was to read a page or two slowly, absorb what it said, and let that inform my day (and longer, hopefully). There are hundreds of editions of Meditations, many still in print, evidence that Marcus Aurelius continues to impress each new generation. If you had told him that would be the case two millennia later, he likely would have asked, “Why should I care?” Marcus saw no value in notoriety or acclaim.
After several leisurely, dare I say contemplative, months, I finished Meditations in mid-February. A practitioner of Stoicism, Aurelius applies his philosophy not to the theoretical confines of the academy, but to the real problems of living with integrity in a corrupted empire. Hmmm. That just might have some relevance in A.D. 2026.
While Marcus often refers to “the gods”, he is less concerned with pious belief than he is with the necessity of living rightly the years he has been given. As time passed, I found myself looking forward to my ‘daily Marcus’ over coffee and struggled to refrain from sending a screen shot of every nugget of wisdom to my immediate family. I hope these snippets from a nearly 2,000-year-old book will illustrate the value I found in its pages over the past five months:
From my mother, [I learned] piety and generosity, and abstinence, not only from evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in my way of living, far removed from the habits of the rich.
Do things external which happen to you distract you? Give yourself time to learn something new and good, and cease to be whirled around.
What then is there which can guide a man? One thing and only one, philosophy [love of wisdom]…
If you work at that which is before you, following right reason seriously, vigorously, calmly, without allowing anything else to distract you, but keeping your divine part pure, as if you were bound to give it back immediately; if you hold to this, expecting nothing, but satisfied to live now according to nature, speaking heroic truth in every word which you utter, you will live happy. And there is no man able to prevent this…
Are you angry with one whose mouth has a foul odor? What good will your anger do you?
Whatever is in any way beautiful is beautiful in itself, and has its end in itself, and praise is no part of it. Neither worse than nor better is a thing made by being praised… That which is really beautiful has no need of anything; no more than law, no more than truth, no more than generosity or modesty…
…what is your duty? Why, what else but to venerate the gods and bless them, and do good to men, and practice tolerance and self-restraint; but as to whatever lies beyond the confines of your poor flesh and breath, to remember that it is neither yours nor in your power.
The best way of avenging yourself is not to become like the wrongdoer.
This form of slow, intentional reading has given me fresh eyes to explore my library, without the urgency of a book club deadline or a Goodreads goal. What have I been doing for ‘Morning Metaphysics’ since completing my trek through Meditations? Oh, that will likely be the subject of a future post. Until next time…
