The Marcus Aurelius Guide to Self-Care

Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (121–180) is known for his “Meditations.” Biba Kayewich

For many people, the new year is a time of planning. We map out plans and schedules for the upcoming months, often including plans for a vacation, some summertime fun in the sun at the beach, a cruise, or a camping trip in the Smokies.

We look at these getaways as occasions for relaxation, a break in the routine, and even as an opportunity where, away from the obligations and frenetic pace of home life and work, we might indulge in some long thoughts. We imagine ourselves, for example, in a waterfront cottage at the Outer Banks, where the rhythm of the breaking surf will inspire us to slow down, catch our breath, and review our successes and failures.

Some people step beyond this picture and schedule a retreat specifically designed for reflection. They join a band of pilgrims at a monastery for a long weekend or sign up for a yoga retreat at a wellness center, hoping to return home with a fresh angle on their lives. Like other breakaways, these retreats come with a cost, expenditures of time and money on the necessary arrangements.

There is, however, another path. Almost 2,000 years ago, one man devised a retreat aimed at self-care that is free of charge and involves traveling only from the kitchen table to a living room sofa.

In the Citadel of the Self

Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (121–180) is known for his “Meditations.” Biba Kayewich

In Book 4 of his “Meditations,” Stoic thinker Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote:

“Men seek retreats for themselves—in the country, by the sea, in the hills—and you yourself are particularly prone to this yearning. But all this is quite unphilosophic, when it is open to you, at any time you want, to retreat into yourself. No retreat offers someone more quiet and relaxation than that into his own mind, especially if he can dip into thoughts there which put him at immediate and complete ease: and by ease I simply mean a well-ordered life. So constantly give yourself this retreat, and renew yourself. The doctrines you will visit there should be few and fundamental, sufficient at one meeting to wash away all your pain and send you back free of resentment at what you must rejoin.”

Among Stoics, this place of retreat from the world and its woes is known as the “inner citadel.” The troubles of life may be outside our realm of influence, according to the Stoic philosophers, but how we react to them—well, that territory belongs to us. The inner citadel, that retreat on a sofa or the back deck, is the place where we can recollect ourselves, sifting through the emotions roused by the trials and troubles pressing on us, evaluating their validity, and properly realigning and balancing our thoughts and feelings.

Here, it’s important to remember that the home retreat recommended by Aurelius is not the same as merely spending time alone. Often when we’re by ourselves, we fight the silence and solitude with music, smartphones, or books. Surrounded by distractions such as these, we’re not in the inner citadel. We’re not even knocking on the door.

Helps Along the Way

Some people, including me, need specific help getting past that door. Fortunately, the internet provides a wealth of advice.

“10 Insanely Useful Stoic Exercises,” for instance, lists several meditation techniques, including self retreat. Here, the writer advises us, just like Marcus Aurelius, to “regularly travel inside your mind, specially if you need peace or freedom. ... All you need is five to 10 minutes a day to shut out the outside world and to look inside your own mind.”

In “Meditating My Way to the Inner Citadel,” Meredith Kunz offers even more help. After pointing out that the BBC’s Sherlock Holmes withdraws into his “mind palace” when faced with a tangled whodunit, Kunz explains her own techniques of entering the citadel through meditation. One excellent tip: She recommends taking it easy on yourself when meditating, referencing “the Stoic concept of ignoring the things outside our power.” The citadel is not supposed to be a torture chamber.

Although Kunz’s proposed twice-per-day, 20-minute meditation sessions may be too long for most of us, particularly newcomers to the citadel, she does reinforce one critical concept for these mental and spiritual respites, saying, “Indeed, our mind’s attitude is the most prominent thing all Stoics focus on.”

As Aurelius wrote a little later in Book 4, “Finally, then, remember this retreat into your own little territory within yourself. ... Things cannot touch the mind: they are external and inert; anxieties can only come from your internal judgment.”

As a popular paraphrase has it: “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this and you will find strength.”

Retreat In Extremis

For nearly eight years, Navy fighter pilot James Stockdale was a prisoner of war (POW) in North Vietnam. During that time, he and his fellow prisoners were beaten and tortured, kept in solitary confinement, and treated like animals. There was no getting away from this prison of pain and sorrow—no breaks, no vacations.

But Stockdale faced that ordeal armed with a secret weapon. At age 38, just before his Vietnam tour, he took courses in philosophy at California’s Stanford University. One professor, Philip Rhinelander, introduced him to the “Enchiridion,” a fundamental Stoic work by the former slave Epictetus. There, Stockdale learned of the inner citadel, which all of us possess but which only a few visit with any regularity.

In the second of two papers that Stockdale wrote about Stoicism and his POW ordeal, he explained at length how this philosophy allowed him to survive and to lead the other Americans in his charge. He wrote of this lesson he took from Epictetus: “A man is responsible for his own ‘judgments, even in dreams, in drunkenness, and in melancholy madness.’ Each individual brings about his own good and his own evil, his good fortune, his ill fortune, his happiness, and his wretchedness.”

Forced to live in a hell on earth, Stockdale found refuge and sustenance in his inner citadel.

Takeaways From the Aurelius Getaway

While few of us will experience an extended, horrible nightmare like Stockdale’s, these inner citadel visitations can provide us with a positive perspective on exterior troubles. Here’s just one case in point, a life preserver that Aurelius throws to us when we’re drowning in ill will toward others: “Here is a rule to remember in future, when anything tempts you to feel bitter: not ‘This is misfortune,’ but ‘To bear this worthily is good fortune.’”

Following the Aurelius path to self-care and a better life isn’t the easiest walk in the world, but the benefits—a balanced, positive self-image and relief from stress and worry, particularly regarding those circumstances beyond our control—may well make our efforts worthwhile. After all, what do we have to lose?

Knock at the door of your inner citadel and see what happens.