Marcus Aurelius and His Side Project: Meditations

While ruling the vast Roman Empire during its most turbulent period, Marcus Aurelius (121-180 CE) somehow found time to write a private philosophical journal. His Meditations, which was never intended for publication, became one of history's most influential works of personal wisdom, offering timeless guidance on living virtuously amid chaos, and proving that meaningful reflection can happen even in life's busiest moments.

Marcus spent his 19-year reign (161-180 CE) managing an empire under siege, with responsibilities that would have crushed lesser leaders.

Constant warfare dominated much of his rule. He personally led troops against invading Germanic tribes along the Danube frontier, commanding legions in harsh battlefield conditions for years. As historian Cassius Dio observed, Marcus "did not meet with the good fortune he deserved, for he was involved in a multitude of troubles throughout practically his entire reign." The emperor wore a military cloak more often than the toga, marching with his troops through mud and snow on the empire's northern borders.

Simultaneously, he battled the devastating Antonine Plague, likely smallpox, that killed roughly 10% of the empire's population, decimated the army, and claimed his co-ruler Lucius Verus. This pandemic destabilized society just as foreign enemies pressed in from all sides.

On the political front, Marcus navigated dangerous conspiracies, including an attempted military coup by General Avidius Cassius. All while implementing legal reforms to improve conditions for slaves and minors, hearing court cases, and managing an empire "too huge to administer from a single capital." The Historia Augusta nicknamed him "Marcus Antoninus Philosophus" ("the Philosopher"), noting that he kept Plato's admonition on his lips: that society would prosper only if philosophers became kings or kings became philosophers.

In moments stolen between imperial duties, Marcus cultivated an inner life by writing reflections that organized his thoughts and fortified his resolve.

The humble beginnings of Meditations can be traced to his campaigns against the Germanic tribes. Scholars note that internal references reveal the first book was written while Marcus was campaigning against the Quadi along the Danube frontier, and the second book was penned at the Roman military base in Carnuntum. Far from the libraries of Rome, the intellectual emperor found himself writing by lamplight in his military tent after long days of battle planning.

What drove this writing? By all evidence, it was both a coping mechanism and a moral compass. Marcus wrote entirely for himself, addressing entries to "you" (himself) as reminders of principles to live by in difficult circumstances. Building on his Stoic education, especially the teachings of Junius Rusticus who introduced him to "the Discourses of Epictetus," Marcus created what one scholar called "a peek into the mind of one of history's great leaders, seeking wisdom and tranquility amidst chaos."

His writing was deeply personal and therapeutic. "Men seek retreats for themselves—in the country, by the sea, in the hills—but nowhere can a man find a retreat as peaceful as his own soul," he wrote, reflecting his need to withdraw inward even amid chaos. In another passage, he reminded himself to "waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one." These weren't polished essays but raw, honest entries written in Greek rather than Latin, creating what one historian called a "mental separation from the Latin directives of governance."

Marcus carved out space for reflection through sheer determination, treating his writing as essential mental maintenance rather than a luxury.

His dedication to this practice was remarkable considering his overwhelming schedule. According to historians of Stoicism, Marcus "stopped almost every night to practice a series of spiritual exercises" regardless of exhaustion or pressing duties. Nearly every evening, no matter how weary or pressed, he would take a few moments for putting ink to papyrus, a ritual maintained with remarkable consistency throughout the latter part of his reign.

For Marcus, this writing became a therapeutic practice—a way to cope with stress, loneliness, and the weight of responsibility. Surrounded by war's brutality, his notes urged himself to stay humane. As one commentator observed, the Emperor's advice to himself was "at odds with the brutality of his situation"—in an age of cruelty, he was counseling kindness and restraint.

His philosophical commitment also drove this side project. Following the Stoic tradition of examining one's thoughts to cultivate wisdom, Marcus viewed daily reflection as necessary for moral health. He used brief windows between military campaigns, during administrative travels, and during sleepless nights when worries kept him awake. The emperor's dedication reveals a leader who understood that maintaining inner equilibrium was as crucial as maintaining imperial borders.

A private journal never meant to be seen became one of history's most influential works on personal ethics and resilience.

After Marcus's death in 180 CE, his writings nearly vanished. The Byzantine scholar Arethas of Caesarea, around 900 CE, discovered an ancient copy "that is altogether falling to pieces." Fearing the loss of something valuable, he had it copied to "hand down to posterity" the wisdom it contained. Thanks to this act of preservation, Meditations survived to be eventually published in the 16th century.

What Marcus called simply "Ta Eis Heauton" ("To Himself") gained recognition as a masterpiece of Stoic philosophy, offering what readers have found to be "timeless tools for dealing with stress and challenges." One scholar marveled that Meditations is "perhaps the only document of its kind ever made—the private thoughts of the world's most powerful man giving advice to himself on how to make good on the responsibilities and obligations of his positions."

The private journal helped the public emperor maintain integrity when it would have been easy to abuse his position. The universal verdict of those around him was that Marcus proved himself worthy of the absolute power he held. Ironically, his son Commodus would tarnish this golden legacy and hasten the empire's troubles after Marcus's death.

Long after Rome fell, Marcus's reflections continued to inspire millions seeking strength under pressure, with insights that transcend their imperial origins. One historian fittingly called the Meditations an aureus libellus—"a little golden book." Golden not for its style, which is plain, but for its authentic moral truth.

Marcus Aurelius's day job tested him with the worst of life, but his side project reminded him — and ultimately all of us — of the best in ourselves.