19 quy luật để có một cuộc đời tốt đẹp từ Hoàng đế Marcus Aurelius

Marcus Aurelius never claimed to be a Stoic. Gregory Hays, one of Marcus Aurelius’s best translators, writes in his introduction to Meditations, “If he had to be identified with a particular school, [Stoicism] is surely the one he would have chosen. Yet I suspect that if asked what it was that he studied, his answer would not have been ‘Stoicism’ but simply ‘philosophy.’” He then notes that in the ancient world, “philosophy” was not perceived the way it is today. It played a much different role. “It was not merely a subject to write or argue about,” Hays writes, “but one that was expected to provide a ‘design for living’—a set of rules to live one’s life by.” That’s what this philosophy gives us: a design for living. Which is great because, as Seneca wrote, “Life without a design is erratic.” What were some of Marcus’s rules? These are some of my favorites. Put people first. My favorite story about Marcus Aurelius comes in the depths of the Antonine Plague, a horrible pandemic in Ancient Rome that killed millions of people. Rome’s economy has been devastated, people are dying in the streets, and everyone feels like it can’t possibly get better. What does Marcus do? He walks through the imperial palace and begins marking things for sale. Then for two months, on the lawn of the great emperor’s palace, he sells jewels, furniture, and finery owned by the emperor. He’s sending a message saying, ‘I’m not going to put myself first. I don’t need these fancy things—not when people are struggling.’ To me, this is like the CEO who takes a pay cut in a bad economy. This is the athlete who renegotiates their contract so the team can bring on new players. This is the leader who sacrifices and struggles and puts their people ahead of their own comfort and needs. That’s what greatness is. Never be overheard complaining…Not even to yourself. In Meditations, Marcus speaks to this idea over and over and over again: Look inward, not outward. Don’t complain. Don’t meddle in the affairs of others. When you see someone acting objectionably, remember when you have acted that way. The Stoic does not have time to complain about others because they have too much to improve on at home. When we make the distinction between what’s in our control and outside our control, we see very quickly that it is only our own decisions and actions and words and thoughts that are worthy of our attention. Everything else is the business of everyone else. Do only what’s essential. This was Marcus’ simple recipe for productivity and for happiness. “If you seek tranquility,” he said, “do less.” And then he clarifies. Not nothing. Less. Do only what’s essential. “Which brings a double satisfaction: to do less, better.” Follow this advice today and everyday. Put it somewhere you will see it frequently: do only what’s essential. Waste no time worrying about other people’s opinions. Marcus talked about a strange contradiction: we are generally selfish people, yet, more than ourselves, we value other people’s opinions about us. “It never ceases to amaze me,” he wrote, “we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.” The fundamental Stoic principle is that we focus only on the things that are within our control. Other people’s opinions are not within our control. Don’t spend any time worrying about what other people think. Don’t suffer imagined troubles. “Don’t let your imagination be crushed by life as a whole,” Marcus reminded himself. “Stick with the situation at hand.” Focus on the moment. Waste no time thinking about the monsters that may or may not be up ahead. Focus on effort, not outcomes. It’s a strange paradox. The people who are most successful in life, who accomplish the most, who dominate their professions—they don’t care that much about winning. They don’t care about outcomes. As Marcus said, it’s insane to tie your wellbeing to things outside of your control. Success, mastery, sanity, Marcus writes, comes from tying your wellbeing, “to your own actions.” If you did your best, if you gave it your all, if you acted with your best judgment—that is a win…regardless of whether it’s a good or bad outcome. Ask this question. Marcus liked to filter his choices through the question, “You’re afraid of death because you won’t be able to do this anymore?” That’s the thing about memento mori . It’s so clarifying. If you had unlimited time, maybe you wouldn’t mind spending two hours a day in traffic. Maybe you wouldn’t mind endlessly doom scrolling the cesspool of Twitter or tackling the blackhole that is your inbox. But if death was suddenly real to you—if you were given a few months or years to live—what would you immediately spend less time doing? What would the “this” Marcus referred to that you would cut out? Well cut that thing out now, not later. Choose sympathy over outrage. In Meditations, Marcus writes that asking for a world without shameless people and evil acts is to ask the impossible. He adds that people who do harm others end up only harming themselves—”To do an injustice is to do yourself an injustice—it degrades you.” Marcus says these people actually deserve pity. “When people injure you,” he wrote, “feel sympathy rather than outrage or anger. Your sense of good and evil may be the same as theirs, or near it, in which case you have to excuse them. Or your sense of good and evil may differ from theirs. In which case they’re misguided and deserve your compassion.” Blow your own nose. Marcus noticed how often he found himself praying to get something. Wouldn’t it be better, he thought, to make yourself strong enough not to need whatever you were hoping the gods would grace you with? Epictetus calls this blowing your own nose. Don’t wait around hoping for someone to save you. Instead, listen to Marcus’ empowering [...]