The original Western Buddhism
Below is an extract from Emily Colette Wilkinson’s review of Marcus Aurelius: A Life, by Frank McLynn. The parallels with the Buddhist approach are striking, and I can’t help feeling again that it’s a tragedy that Stoic philosophy — the original Western Buddhism? — was stamped out by that Middle-Eastern upstart religion, the early Christian church.
Marcus’ creed held that virtue was its own reward and the only life goal worth pursuing. On the Stoic view, we have no power to determine whether we’ll be rich or poor, famous or infamous, sick or healthy, but we can control whether or not we are good. Thus, life’s pleasures and pains–poverty, disease, fame, death-become “indifferents” to the Stoics–i.e. matters that have no direct bearing on our moral wellbeing and so are irrelevant. As a Stoic, I might be poor and sick and my family might die, but none of this hurts me because it does not impair my ability to be good, which consists in working for the good of my fellow human beings.
“Remember that everything is but what we think it,” Marcus writes, and what he urges himself to think is that we are all ears of corn for the reaping, “leaves that the wind scatters earthward”:
But a little while and thou shalt be burnt ashes or a few dried bones, and possibly a name, possibly not a name even….And all that we prize so highly in our lives is empty and corrupt and paltry, and we but as puppies snapping at each other, as quarrelsome children now laughing and anon in tears.
…
Stoic holism offers a refuge from individualism, the intrinsic faith of our age, and its petty, exhausting calculations. Through Marcus’ writings, individual self-interest and concern for others become mutually supporting ends: The well-being of others and my own well-being are one and the same. And so my happiness consists in orienting my actions toward others and the good of the whole, rather than in pursuing the endless vagaries of earthly desire-sex, fame, fine things, the love and approval of peers-the Goblin Market cravings (to borrow a term from the poet Christina Rossetti) that contemporary society usually encourages us to indulge as the means to self-fulfillment. Have more orgasms, we’re told, wear spiffier outfits, watch another movie, speak more assertively, and the longings, the sense of something missing, will abate.
Stoicism says just the opposite: Stop indulging illusory physical and emotional longings and see your real happiness outside of yourself, your body, your emotions.
The book being reviewed, incidentally, takes a very dim view of Stoicism, finding it “inhuman.” That in itself is interesting. As the reviewer points out, Stoicism led its practioners to be “different from the man guided by physical desires and emotions, better than that man and less human, partaking more of something metaphysical, something divine” — that is, “inhuman” in a positive sense. The Buddha too, when challenged to acknowledge his ontological status (God? Man? Something else?) denied that he was a human being. The Buddha too, in a sense, was “positively inhuman.”
5 Responses to “The original Western Buddhism”
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Published: Jun 26 2010
Thanks for this post, Bodhipaksa.
While I appreciate the Stoic attitude of accepting things for what they are and focusing on one’s own conduct, I don’t share its fatalistic outlook and what appears to be a disconnect from emotions.
For example, I don’t think that carnal desires are low or evil. I just don’t believe that they represent the entire scope of human interest. Sex is good. Recognition is good. Material possessions are good. But I don’t live for these things. They form part of my life.
Imam Ali (Prophet Muhammad’s cousin and regarded as the originator of the Sufi tradition in Islam) has an interesting saying, which I’m sure is echoed in other spiritual traditions: “Asceticism is not to abandon possessions, but it’s to have nothing possess you.”
Material gains aren’t the problem. It’s the unhealthy obsession with them that’s the problem.
Thanks for your comment, Haider.
I’m not sure what you mean by a fatalistic outlook. Fatalism, as I understand it, would be the belief that things cannot be different from how they are or, to put it another way, predestination. As far as I can see, the Stoics believed there were things you could change and things that you couldn’t change, and they attempted to accept internally those external factors that were outside their control.
The position you take on material possessions seems very much in accord with what (little) I know of Stoic ethics. Possessions, reputation, etc, are regarded as “preferred indifferents,” which doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t care about them, but that they’re things we are free to desire, but that we shouldn’t let get in the way of living a meaningful and ethical life. There’s a good introduction to Stoic ethics by Dr. Jan Garrett, here: http://people.wku.edu/jan.garrett/stoics.htm
Imam Ali’s statement, which I like very much, also strikes me as being very Stoic. Marcus Aurelius would have agreed entirely with your concluding point, “Material gains aren’t the problem. It’s the unhealthy obsession with them that’s the problem.”
From what I’ve read about the Stoics, and the general attitude I sense from their writings, is the acceptance of things as they are, and not actively change the things that can be changed.
It’s more about adjusting our inner world rather than engaging with the outer world.
By “fatalistic” I meant that things cannot be changed, rather than they are inevitable.
I could very well have misunderstood the Stoic position. I still find the writings of Marcus Aurelius and Cicero to be thought-provoking and helpful in adjusting my awareness to embrace reality, rather than fight it.
But I think that’s only half the journey. The second half is to change what we can.
Hi Haider,
Once again I think your own views are very similar to the stance the Stoics took. As you know, Marcus Aurelius was an emperor, and there were many Stoics who had power, wealth, and influence. The thing was to use those things wisely, and not to become addicted to them as ends in themselves. Here’s an extract from a paper of Cicero (I’ve edited it for emphasis):
Oh, the quote is from here: http://www.iep.utm.edu/cicero/
Thanks for sharing the quote (and the source!).
Looks like I’ve got more in common with the Stoics than I thought.