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Give Thanks

In all things we should try to make ourselves be as grateful as possible. For gratitude is a good thing for ourselves, in a manner in which justice, commonly held to belong to others, is not. Gratitude pays itself back in large measure.
—Seneca, Moral Letters, 81.19

Think of all the things you can be grateful for today. That you are alive, that you live in a time primarily of peace, that you have enough health and leisure to read this book. What of the little things? The person who smiled at you, the woman who held the door open, that song you like on the radio, the pleasant weather.

Gratitude is infectious. Its positivity is radiant.

Even if today was your last day on earth—if you knew in advance that it was going to end in a few short hours—would there still be plenty to be grateful for? How much better would your life be if you kicked off every day like that? If you let it carry through from morning to night and touch every part of your life?

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

On Being Remembered

Everything lasts for a day, the one who remembers and the remembered.
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 4.35

Take a walk down Forty-first Street toward the beautiful New York City Public Library, with its majestic stone lions. On your way up “Library Way,” you’ll pass a gold placard laid into the cement, part of a series of quotations from great writers throughout history. This one is from Marcus Aurelius: “Everything is only for a day, both that which remembers and that which is remembered.”

The library itself was designed by the firm of John Merven Carrere, one of the twentieth century’s most accomplished architects. It combines the collections of such luminaries and philanthropists as Samuel Tilden, John Jacob Astor, and James Lenox, and their names are carved into the stone. Today, the naming rights go to hedge fund manager Stephen A. Schwarzman. The opening of the library in 1911 was attended by President William Howard Taft, Governor John Alden Dix, and New York City mayor William Jay Gaynor. The plaques you pass on your way were designed by the excellent Gregg LeFevre.

Marcus’s quote makes us ponder: How many of these people have we even heard of? The people involved in the story of the library were some of the most famous men in the world, masters of their respective crafts, rich beyond imagination in some cases. Even along “Library Way,” many of the famous authors are unfamiliar to the modern reader. They are all long gone, as are the people who remembered them.

All of us, including Marcus—who is passed over by just as many unaware pedestrians—last for just a day, at most.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

Don’t Let Your Soul Go First

It’s a disgrace in this life when the soul surrenders first while the body refuses to.
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 6.29

Despite his privileges, Marcus Aurelius had a difficult life. The Roman historian Cassius Dio mused that Marcus “did not meet with the good fortune that he deserved, for he was not strong in body and was involved in a multitude of troubles throughout practically his entire reign.” At one point, he was so sick that a rumor spread that he had died—and matters were made worse when his most trusted general used it as an opportunity to declare himself the new emperor.

But throughout these struggles—the years at war, the crippling illnesses, his troubled son—he never gave up. It’s an inspiring example for us to think about today if we get tired, frustrated, or have to deal with some crisis. Here was a guy who had every reason to be angry and bitter, who could have abandoned his principles and lived in luxury or ease, who could have put his responsibilities aside and focused on his own health.

But he never did. His soul stayed strong even after his body became weak. He didn’t give up, right up to the second until his body finally did—when he died near Vienna in 180 AD.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

Life Is Long–If You Know How To Use It

It’s not at all that we have too short a time to live, but that we squander a great deal of it. Life is long enough, and it’s given in sufficient measure to do many great things if we spend it well. But when it’s poured down the drain of luxury and neglect, when it’s employed to no good end, we’re finally driven to see that it has passed by before we even recognized it passing. And so it is—we don’t receive a short life, we make it so.
—Seneca, On The Brevity Of Life, 1.3-4a

No one knows how long they have to live, but sadly, we can be sure of one thing: we’ll waste far too much of life. Waste it sitting around, waste it chasing the wrong things, waste it by refusing to take the time to ask ourselves what’s actually important to us. Far too often, we’re like the overconfident academics that Petrarch criticized in his classic essay on ignorance—the types who “fritter away their powers incessantly in caring for things outside of them and seek themselves there.” Yet they have no idea this is what they’re doing.

So today, if you find yourself rushed or uttering the words “I just don’t have enough time,” stop and take a second. Is this actually true? Or have you just committed to a lot of unnecessary things? Are you actually being efficient, or have you assumed a great deal of waste into your life? The average American spends something like forty hours a year in traffic. That’s months over the course of a life. And for “traffic,” you can substitute so many activities—from fighting with others to watching television to daydreaming.

Your life is plenty long—just use it properly.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

Don’t Burn The Candle At Both Ends

The mind must be given relaxation—it will rise improved and sharper after a good break. Just as rich fields must not be forced—for they will quickly lose their fertility if never given a break—so constant work on the anvil will fracture the force of the mind. But it regains its powers if it is set free and relaxed for a while. Constant work gives rise to a certain kind of dullness and feebleness in the rational soul.
—Seneca, On Tranquility Of Mind, 17.5

One can’t read Marcus Aurelius and Seneca and not be struck by the difference between these two radically different personalities. Each had his own strengths and weaknesses. Which would you rather have entrusted with the immense responsibility of an empire? Probably Marcus. But who would you rather be as a person? Probably Seneca.

One of the reasons is that Seneca seems to have had what we would now refer to as work/life balance. Whereas Marcus can read as though he’s worn down and tired, Seneca always feels energetic, fresh, robust. His philosophy of rest ad relaxation—intermixed with his rigorous study and other Stoic rituals—probably had a lot to do with it.

The mind is a muscle, and like the rest, it can be strained, overworked, even injured. Our physical health is also worn down by over-commitment, a lack of rest, and bad habits. Remember the tall tale about John Henry—the man who challenged the machine? He died of exhaustion at the end. Don’t forget that.

Today, you may face things that try your patience, require considerable focus or clarity, or demand creative breakthroughs. Life is a long haul—it will mean many such moments. Are you going to be able to handle them if you’ve burned the candle at both ends? If you’ve been abusing and overworking your body?

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

Meaningless … Like A Fine Wine

You know what wine and liqueur tastes like. It makes no difference whether a hundred or a thousand bottles pass through your bladder—you are nothing more than a filter.
—Seneca, Moral Letters, 77.16

Here we have another contemptuous expression, this time from Seneca, who, given his reputation for opulence, probably enjoyed a nice drink from time to time. His point will probably rattle anyone for whom success and adulthood has turned them into a wine snob (though the logic can be applied just as easily to foodies, techies, audiophiles, and the like).

As fun and exciting and pleasurable as these pleasures are, it’s worth putting them in their place. You don’t get a prize at the end of your life for having consumed more, worked more, spent more, collected more, or learned more about the various vintages than everyone else. You are just a conduit, a vessel that temporarily held or interacted with these fancy items.

If you find yourself lusting over them, this meditation might help reduce their luster just a smidge.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

What Are You So Afraid Of Losing?

You are afraid of dying. But, come now, how is this life of yours anything but death?
—Seneca, Moral Letters, 77.18

Seneca tells an amazing story about an obscenely wealthy Roman who was carried around by slaves on a litter. On one occasion, after being lifted out of a bath, the Roman asked, “Am I sitting down yet?” Seneca’s point was essentially: What kind of sad pathetic life is it if you’re so disconnected from the world that you don’t even know whether you’re on the ground? How did the man know whether he was even alive at all?

Most of us are afraid of dying. But sometimes this fear begs the question: To protect what exactly? For a lot of people the answer is: hours of television, gossiping, gorging, wasting potential, reporting to a boring job, and on and on and on. Except, in the strictest sense, is this actually a life? Is this worth gripping so tightly and being afraid of losing?

It doesn’t sound like it.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

Stake Your Own Claim

For it’s disgraceful for an old person, or one in sight of old age, to have only the knowledge carried in their notebooks. Zeno said this … what do you say? Cleanthes said that … what do you say? How long will you be compelled by the claims of another? Take charge and stake your own claim—something posterity will carry in its notebook.
—Seneca, Moral Letters, 33.7

Musing in his notebook about the topic of immortality, Ralph Waldo Emerson complained how writers dance around a difficult topic by relying on quotes. “I hate quotation,” he wrote. “Tell me what you know.”

Seneca was throwing down the same gauntlet some twenty centuries before. It’s easier to quote, to rely on the wise words of others. Especially when the people you’re deferring to are such towering figures!

It’s harder (and more intimidating) to venture out on your own and express your own thoughts. But how do you think those wise and true quotes from those towering figures were created in the first place?

Your own experiences have value. You have accumulated your own wisdom too. Stake your claim. Put something down for the ages—in words and also in example.

* Source: The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman