Whatever I am, it is either flesh, life, or reason. Set aside your books and focus on your ruling part, reason. Don’t let it become a slave to desires and impulses. Don’t resent the present or fear the future.
Excerpt From
Aurelius, Marcus. “Meditations: Modern English Edition”
There are a lot of prescriptions for the way to live. As varied – sometimes as preposterous – as they are, be assured there are those philosophic persuasions which have a compelling influence upon certain of us. Indeed one may be surprised to discover the magnitude of instruction which one unwittingly follows or to which one unknowingly subscribes. Idealism for living is frequently of such prolonged cultural influence that it is handed from one generation to another as though it were DNA.
Deoxyribonucleic acid (abbreviated DNA) is the molecule that carries genetic information for the development and functioning of an organism.
Of course the greater reality – without delving too deeply into the philosophic debate surrounding tablula rasa or religion – is that most of us ultimately depend on something other than outside influence or strictly native intuition to guide or direct our behaviour. We are products not only of ancestry or other unspecific moulds but also of our own private experience in its multitude of unpredictable emanations.
Tabula rasa (Latin for “blank slate”) is the idea of individuals being born empty of any built-in mental content, so that all knowledge comes from later perceptions or sensory experiences. Proponents typically form the extreme “nurture” side of the nature versus nurture debate, arguing that humans are born without any “natural” psychological traits and that all aspects of one’s personality, social and emotional behaviour, knowledge, or sapience are later imprinted by one’s environment onto the mind as one would onto a wax tablet. This idea is the central view posited in the theory of knowledge known as empiricism. Empiricists disagree with the doctrines of innatism or rationalism, which hold that the mind is born already in possession of specific knowledge or rational capacity.
On a balmy summer day such as today, I confess the influence of stoicism or epicureanism was not paramount; instead, it was the distinguishable advent of summer that followed what had been a peculiarly cool and often windy springtime. In celebration I sported a white linen shirt and white cotton shorts. Nonetheless I succumbed today to accommodation. Maybe that was the element of reason of which Marcus Aurelius spoke so convincingly 2000 years ago.
I first encountered obstruction to my ideal summer adventure when proposing to purchase a hearing aid with the assistance of Pam, my Hearing Instrument Specialist. Pam has been in the business a long time. She knew for example that the last time I had purchased a hearing device was 6 years ago. I arrived at our scheduled appointment this morning with the preconceived notion that I would buy one hearing aid (for my right ear, the weaker) and that it would be the latest model which is designed to fit into the outer ear passage rather than one which fits around the top of the ear. I was wrong on both counts.
Pam confirmed I now required an aid for both ears and that the models which fit into the ear structure – apart from proving unpopular with clients who initially had sought to use them for the same reason as I – more immediately require battery replacement every week (the batteries are not rechargeable). And the longevity of the compressed units are compromised for other reasons I cannot now recall, perhaps something to do with warranty or perpetual repair.
So there you have it – the first defeat I suffered on this balmy summer day. But reason prevailed! First, I trust my professional advisor. She is manifestly competent and has no reason to contradict me other than for my benefit – a fact which I sheepishly remarked she had proven historically and which you’ll forgive me, dear Reader, for not elucidating at this time in the interest of sparsity and ignominy.
Undisturbed by the opening line of action upon this balmy summer day, I pressed onward. In fairness to the objective regard of this entire narrative, I admit that what followed was – not unlike so many adventures in life – capitalized by unanticipated fortuity. Two things: one, I breezed through an unscheduled haircut; and, two, I hadn’t to suffer that now pervasive indignity to void my bladder every 20 minutes. Granted I have for the moment abandoned that once contemporaneously soothing and uplifting indulgence (and unconscionable diuretic) called the triple espresso – or what has lately transformed to the quadruple espresso because the single they make is already a double (I am not to be outdone by Starbucks with its Caffé Americano, Latte and Double Latte).
Accordingly I persisted in my now gratifying and character building endeavours by going to the car wash. There however I met with difficulty. The car wash was closed for repair. Instead therefore I opted to travel more deeply into the city to another Petro-Canada gas station which I formerly habituated. This was a success! In fact because of the apparently extensive renovation at the other site, this one will likely become the new location for the daily revitalization of my motor vehicle. I assuaged the difficulty by relishing the venture along largely unfamiliar territory upon my return home. Smooth driving is to me an incomparable undertaking. As I streamed home along the open roads, bypassing the bountiful open fields, I marvelled at the precision, sound and feel of the little 4-cylinder engine (which is surprisingly capable of enthusiasm). Indeed I exhausted the inconvenience of a workday lineup on the highway by whizzing past at an uncommonly rapid speed (which of course I reduced to the specified limit once on the Appleton Side Road).
To top it all off, today we at last received the refund of our overpayment on our US credit card. You would think for a credit card company – like a bank – sending money to a client would be a simple matter of depositing it on-line. This however is not the case. Not only had we to contact the credit card company on more than one occasion, we also had to endure their own tardiness (and lack of technology) and concurrent postal strike in Canada as they arranged to send us a cheque in US$ which naturally we must present in person at our bank for deposit. The so-called modern technology for deposit through one’s iPhone is not possible to a US account in Canada. Nor could we figure a way to convert the cheque to Canadian dollars then deposit to one of our Canadian accounts. And we didn’t bother to speculate whether we could deposit it to our US$ account in Sarasota, FLA then transfer that money to our US account in Canada. Instead we’ll go to our local bank tomorrow.
