Welcome to The PATH (Monday Meditation) — A weekly reflection with three timeless insights for daily life. This week’s reflection searches for ancient lessons inspired by three maxims inscribed at the Oracle at Delphi.
1. Know Thyself
According to the Greek writer Pausanias, there were three Delphic maxims inscribed in the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi: know thyself, nothing to excess, and certainty brings insanity. The ancient Greek aphorism “Know thyself” was made famous by Socrates (by way of his student Plato). Although, Socrates stressed that “true wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.”
How does the above Socrates quote sit with you?
According to the late Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, “When you ask the question, ‘Who am I?’ — if you have enough time and concentration — you may find some surprising answers.”
In his book Silence, Hanh wrote:
You may see that you are a continuation of your ancestors. Your parents and your ancestors are fully present in every cell of your body; you are their continuation. You don’t have a separate self. If you remove your ancestors and your parents from you, there’s no “you” left. You may see that you’re made of elements, like water for example. If you remove the water from you, there’s no “you” left. You’re made of earth. If you remove the element earth from you, there’s no “you” left. … You know that you are made of light. Without sunlight, nothing can grow on Earth. If you continue to look, you see that you are made of the sun, one of the biggest stars in the galaxy. And you know that the Earth, as well as yourself, is made of the stars. […]
Paradoxically, a step towards knowing ourselves is the realization that we do not. Or, as the philosopher Dogen put it, “To study the self is to forget the self.” As discussed in How to Know Thyself, we may never truly know ourselves, our friends, or our spouses. Still, we may eventually realize that it is enough to love ourselves and others without knowing what they’re all about.
2. Nothing to Excess
Some of my favorite writing on living modestly come from Epicurus. The Greek philosopher Epicurus (341–270 BCE) may have been the first minimalist. Epicurus advised his students: “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”
In Plato’s Podcasts: The Ancient Guide to Modern Living, the philosopher and psychotherapist Mark Vernon (a previous podcast guest) writes,
You have to feel sorry for Epicurus. Of all the ancient philosophers, he is arguably the most misunderstood. His very name has become a byword for exactly the opposite of what he stood for: an epicurean, according to my dictionary, is someone who is devoted to sensual pleasures. In fact, his life manifested an extraordinary commitment to a philosophy that could be summed up in three short words: less is more.
According to Epicurus, many of our fears and anxieties result from failing to see things as they are. Knowledge of how the world works will ultimately set us free. The Epicurean view is that you already have everything you need if only you could see it. The only things you need are those that are natural and necessary. The rest is mere window dressing, stressed Epicurus.
3. Certainty Brings Insanity
Strangely, our brains our wired to predict, categorize, and make sense of life. But in reality, we cannot predict the future — life is uncertain. All the mental processing and striving to anticipate what is coming next only takes us from the precious nature of the present moment.
Sarah Blakewell writes in How to Live: A Life of Montaigne:
“Life is what happens while you’re making other plans, they said; so philosophy must guide your attention repeatedly back to the place where it belongs — here.” Not getting around the fact that life eventually slips through our hands. As Montaigne put it, “If you fail to grasp life, it will elude you. If you do grasp it, it will elude you anyway.”
The Jesuit Theologian Anthony De Mello said to a group attending a retreat, “the way to really live is to die.” His words from the retreat would eventually become the book Awareness: The Perils and Opportunities of Reality. De Mello suggested, “imagine yourself in your grave, lying in your coffin, see your body decomposing, then bones, then dust.” He called it a “lovely meditation.”
“Do it daily if you want to come alive,” said De Mello.
The reactions to this meditation are often negative; people say, “How disgusting!” What is so disgusting about reality? De Mello stressed to the group: “Many of you don’t want to see reality. You don’t want to think of death. People don’t live, most of you, you don’t live; you’re just keeping the body alive.”
The practice of Memento Mori (or remembering you will die) is universal wisdom across nearly all traditions. Marcus Aurelius wrote to himself: “You could leave life right now, let that determine what you do, say, and think.” In this now-famous quote, the keyword is “could,” although our deaths are inevitable, when and how death will knock at our door is entirely uncertain.
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Thank you for reading; I hope you found something useful.
Until next time, be wise and be well,
P.S. As always, feel free to comment or ask questions!
While I found this overall most interesting, I was disappointed in the last section. The initial topic segued into something that’s been covered many times before, not that it wasn’t well done, but it wasn’t to the point of certainty bringing insanity. Or at least I didn’t see the connection; maybe you can set me straight on this. Thank you as usual for a mostly thought-provoking essay.