Meditations Change (Transience) Quotes

Marcus tells us that the universe is controlled by two conflicting principles: change and order. In this case, the structure and preservation of the universe is dependent on the change that constantly reshuffles the distribution of substance. While the maturing and decay of human life is exactly the thing that turns Marcus off to a life in the body, it's also the thing that keeps the universe ever new: the recycling of elements makes it possible for new things to be born all the time.

Here's your cheerful thought for the day: humans are rotting, inconstant heaps o' atoms. Marcus strings together a line of metaphors to make sure we understand the transient nature of human existence. Of special interest here is the comparison of human on earth to strangers in a strange, hostile land. Though Marcus does not speak of an afterlife in detailed terms, this phrase hints that he imagines his true home to be elsewhere—perhaps as part of the universal Whole. Though the universe itself is a place of constant change, there's an inevitability and purpose to such transformation. On earth, change means brevity and decay.

Marcus often uses the metaphor of existence as a river to convey how quickly individual people and other living things are swept through life and disappear. The speed of this turnover convinces him not to value anything that lives on earth, since all earthly life is so impermanent. There is no bitterness in his observations: life is change, he says, so get used to it.

The impermanence of fame is an appropriate theme for the Emperor of Rome to harp on, especially if he's trying to keep perspective on his role in the world. In his acknowledgment of the ephemeral nature of fame and memory, Marcus also acknowledges that he is among the privileged few: as emperor, his fame will last longer than that of the everyday worker. (He had no idea just how long that fame would actually last.)

You may sense a theme by now: stuff doesn't last. Everything changes and decays. But in this little phrase, Marcus hits on something else: the utter oblivion of things that live only in memory. He's been clear up to this point about the transient nature of the flesh, but now Marcus acknowledges that the memory of a person's fame is equally fragile. It's because, of course, that memory resides in the minds of others, who will also fade and fall.

Marcus finds comfort—or at least neutrality—in the constant movement of substance through the universe. It's all like a great recycling center in the sky. That movement is the origin of everything—and its final destination as well. Whether this creeps you out or not, Marcus believes that he's just walking a path that everyone else who has ever lived (or who will ever live) has to walk. Dissolution is democratic in nature and necessary for the health of the world.

In his 13th-century Purgatorio, Dante Alighieri promises his guide, Virgil, that he'll make his brain like wax so that he can receive and retain the stamp of impressions from his experiences. He chooses wax as a surface of permanence, something that will help him remember. Yeah, well, Marcus Aurelius doesn't feel the same way about wax. In this passage, he uses the image of wax as an impermanent substance, suitably reflective of human experience. He's actually pretty irritated by the transient nature of everything related to human experience, and he questions the value of human life in the face of it.

Marcus finds a moderately positive aspect to the ever-changing nature of life in our universe: it keeps everything new. On the other hand, it makes no sense to get attached to any of it, since creation is so short lived. It's a real problem for Marcus, who, despite his general disgust at the things of this world, has to remind himself constantly not to value the world.

While change can make things unpleasant for us (everything is so ephemeral), it's just a part of life that we all have to accept. And on some level, change is a positive thing. Children can't mature without change, and the universe can't be renewed without it. Moreover, change is a part of life for all things—the Whole doesn't pick and choose who decays. Everybody has to participate in the ebb and flow of the cosmos, like it or not.

Marcus is feeling either more positive or more resigned to the concept of change in the universe here. He's a mutation, but that's okay: everyone is. He means to say that we are all in a constant state of flux: maturing, dying, being translated into another form at the order of the universe. But it's all good: it's what living things do. It's always been this way, and it'll be this way for the rest of eternity. Knowing that he's participating in something that's natural for human beings makes the idea of mutation and translation somewhat comforting to Marcus.