Between Idleness and Indulgence
Dying Every Day (Day 139)
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Dying Every Day is a podcast by the Perennial Leader Project. Each episode turns a selected passage from Stoic philosophy into a guided meditation designed to help you (and me) learn how to live.
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Between Idleness and Indulgence
Welcome back to Dying Every Day. This is Day 139.
The alarm goes off. You reach for your phone. Not because you need to—just because it’s there.
Nothing urgent. Nothing necessary.
And when you finally get up, the pull remains. Not toward stillness—but toward more stimulation. More noise. More distraction.
This is the quiet pattern of most days: not crisis, not collapse—just a gradual movement away from what matters. It usually happens in two directions.
Idleness and indulgence.
One looks like doing nothing. The other looks like doing too much. But they lead to the same place: a life not fully lived.
The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius interrupts this drift at the start of his day:
“Every day you wake, remember that you were made for the work of a human being. You were not created for idleness, nor for indulgence, but to act justly, speak honestly, and think clearly. Do not be led astray by distractions or desires. Your nature is rational and social. To follow that nature is to follow the gods.”
Before anything else, he reminds himself, “You were made for something.”
Not for endless delay.
Not for constant consumption.
But for human work.
Marcus does not begin with ambition or achievement. He begins with function.
What is a human being for?
The Greek philosopher Aristotle may offer the clearest answer in all of philosophy. In the Nicomachean Ethics, he asks what the true function of a human being is, and concludes:
“The function of man is an activity of the soul in accordance with reason… and the good for man is activity of the soul in accordance with virtue.”
A life goes well—what he calls flourishing—when this activity is performed well, consistently, over time.
In other words, a human life is not determined by how it feels. It is determined by what it does.
To think clearly.
To choose deliberately.
To act in accordance with reason.
This is the work Marcus is pointing to. To be rational is to see clearly and choose well—not to be pulled by every passing impulse. To be social is to act in ways that benefit others—to contribute, to cooperate, to live justly.
This is the work.
And yet, most of us drift away from it—not dramatically, but quietly. We slide into idleness, postponing effort, telling ourselves we’ll begin later. Or we slide into indulgence, filling every gap with distraction, mistaking stimulation for engagement.
This is precisely what Marcus warns against:
“Do not be led astray by distractions or desires.”
Because distraction doesn’t just waste time—it reshapes your life.
Idleness wastes time. Indulgence scatters it.
Either way, attention is lost. And where attention goes, life follows.
Aristotle demonstrates the importance of this concept by explaining that virtue is found in the mean—not a simple compromise, but a balance between excess and deficiency. For instance, courage lies between fear and recklessness, while discipline lies between idleness and indulgence.
A life pulled too far toward comfort becomes weak.
A life pulled too far toward stimulation becomes scattered.
And we don’t fall into these patterns once—we repeat them until they become who we are. So the question is not abstract. It’s immediate.
Consider this: If your last seven days repeated for the next year, would you respect the life it creates?
Marcus stresses to himself:
“You were made for the work of a human being.”
That work is not dramatic. It is not reserved for special moments. It is the quiet discipline of doing what is in front of you—well, and without avoidance.
We are not here merely to experience life.
We are here to exercise our nature.
But it’s important to point out that Marcus’ warning is not against rest or enjoyment. It is against losing proportion—against letting comfort or stimulation become your guide instead of your reason.
Because once that happens, you stop choosing your life.
You start drifting through it.
Between idleness and indulgence lies something steadier:
Attention.
Effort.
Presence.
They point to the same thing: a life shaped by deliberate action, not passive reaction. Each morning, Marcus offers himself the same instruction:
“Remember that you were made for the work of a human being.”
Not once.
Every day.
Because the pull toward ease and distraction never disappears. It must be met again and again.
We don’t need to conquer the world.
We just need to stop drifting away from the work of being human.
Daily Practice
I invite you to spend an hour doing one thing fully.
No switching.
No checking.
No drifting.
When your attention wanders—and trust me, it will—simply notice it and return.
This is the work.
Listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
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Thank you for reading/listening; I hope you found something useful.
Until next time, be wise and be well.
J.W.
P.S. Catch up on recent (and past) meditations in the archive!
Excellent advice - thank you.