Marcus Aurelius on ashes, bones, and what matters

Dying Every Day (Day 113)

Jul 15, 2025

Fresh Canned Meats by Homer Davenport (Public domain)

💀 Dying Every Day

Dying Every Day (Stoicism in a Year) 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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Marcus Aurelius on ashes, bones, and what matters

Welcome back to Dying Every Day (Stoicism in a Year). This is Day 113.

Imagine walking through a graveyard. Every name you see was once a full life—desires, fears, arguments, ambitions. Now, just stone and silence.

Marcus Aurelius starts there, with an unflinching look at the end of all things. He wrote to himself,

Soon you’ll be ashes or bones. A mere name, at most—and even that is just a sound, an echo. The things we desire in life are empty, stale, and trivial. Dogs snarling at each other. Quarreling children—laughing and then bursting into tears a moment later. Trust, shame, justice, and truth—‘gone from the earth and only found in heaven.’

Marcus asks himself,

Why are you still here? Sensory objects are shifting and unstable; our senses are dim and easily deceived; the soul itself is a decoction of blood; fame in a world like this is worthless. — And so? Wait patiently—annihilation or metamorphosis. And until that time comes—what? Honor and revere the gods, treat human beings as they deserve, be tolerant with others, and be strict with yourself. Remember, nothing belongs to you but your flesh and blood—and nothing else is under your control.
+Adapted from Meditations, 5.33

The ambitions we chase—wealth, reputation, victory—are revealed here as empty. Petty. No better than dogs snarling at scraps. Even the higher ideals—seem so rare and fragile to Marcus that he can only imagine them fully existing “in heaven.”

It might seem like despair, but it isn't. The Stoics recommend seeing things clearly, accepting them fully, and continuing to choose a virtuous life.

When Marcus asks, “Why are you still here?” he already knows the answer. Not to accumulate more, not to be remembered, not to win arguments or indulge desires. To fulfill his duty. To live virtuously.

When asked, “What comes next?” the answer is uncertain. However, until that moment, Marcus advises treating others with patience and fairness. Be forgiving of their faults and strict with your own.

Marcus accepts that the world is transient, chaotic, and often unjust. He accepts that the body is frail and fame is meaningless. And yet—he does not give up. He endures patiently, awaiting whatever comes—“annihilation or metamorphosis”—while focusing on what is actually within his control: his character.

Marcus reminds us that nothing truly belongs to us but our own flesh and blood, and even that is fleeting. So why cling so tightly to possessions, pride, or status? This is not a call to cynicism but to clarity: recognize the emptiness of most pursuits and dedicate yourself to what truly matters.

Reflection Prompt

Reflect or journal about the transient nature of life. Ask yourself, “What currently feels meaningful but might seem empty from this perspective?” or “How can you remind yourself that, despite the uncertainty, your life is happening right now?”