Marcus Aurelius Speaks
If everything's a matter of chance, still you don't have to be ruled by chance.
Nothing outside the mind can disturb it—trouble comes from the mind's opinion of what lies outside it.
—Marcus Aurelius (translation by Scott Hicks and David V. Hicks)
You are what?
You are what you think
and from these thoughts
good actions spill
from the well of the upheld cup
from which you drink.
Your blood is the inkin which you write truly
and your gods your gods are
the rational universe.
From its strings you hang
with no hatred
for the fate meted out to you.And nature's rain too falls in your cup:
Water for the only Judge there is.
One of rare curiosities sadnesses
fears revulsions reflexes
serendipities raptures & loathings
(which you imbibe
like mother's milk)and these fires
burn the seams of their laws
into every cell
with a vivid dye
before it explodes into you.
Extinguish the fire.No sycophant
of empty applause
you are because you know
the hand claps add scantly
to what you have
thought and done.
Your interest remains
proportional to the value of its object.Leave all else in the goblet.
Desire? A snare for the untrained mind.
See the hot wine for what it is:
the blood of a Golden Calf
that cannot stain your thoughts
unless you choose to drink of it.Don't drink of it.
Reach even for the roasted boar
in its seasoned sauces
without craving.
Remember the grace of repair
after being mauled by passion.And remember that no one
will remember you:
a memory so fragile it crumbles
like the desiccated pages
of an ancient book
when eyes are laid upon it.You are just a breath:
a small contraction
of the winds of fate.
A servant of reason.
A small doll built in the image
of a rational universe.Can't you see that?
If so, brush away like gnats
all the cancerous musings.
What might they think of me?
Why have I been treated unfairly?You answer to no one:
an agent the gods schooled
in fairness, logic & valor.
What else?
Carry
Carry your vanities to the altar of
despair.
And leave them there.You tell me.
