For What It's Worth

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Bad Cucumbers and Big Obstacles

(8 minute read)

Key Takeaways:

• Greek philosophy is one of action, not abstract theory. Unlike academic schools of thought, Greek philosophy is grounded in real-world behavior — our motivations, choices, and responses to hardship. It’s less about what you believe and more about what you do.
• Cut your losses and move on. The core message of Greek philosophy is disarmingly simple: if something is not useful, get rid of it. Don’t overphilosophize — just act. Dwelling on it doesn’t help.
• It sharpens how you live. The Greeks used the awareness of mortality to strip away trivialities and focus on what actually matters.
• Meditations is an invitation into Greek philosophy. The book’s raw, unpolished quality is a feature, not a bug — which makes its wisdom feel more honest and less performed than most philosophical texts.

“You bought a bad cucumber? Then throw it away. You come upon a small obstacle in the road? Then go around it. This is all the philosophy you will ever need to know.”

–Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Eighth Book, No. 48

Really?

This is all the philosophy we will ever need? Really? Can that truly be enough to get by in life?

Got a rotten vegetable? Throw it out. There’s a roadblock up ahead? Just go around it.

It echoes sayings we know well: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade or don’t sweat the small stuff.

Imagine hearing these pearls of wisdom from Jesus, Buddha, or Freud.

• “Now that we’ve finished supper, boys, there’s something I’ve got to tell you. Before the night is over, one of you will betray me. But you know — when life hands you lemons…”
• And when The Buddha finished, he said to his disciples, “We are what we think, lads. Everything we are arises with our thoughts, and with those thoughts, we make the world. So, you know, don’t sweat the small stuff.”
• Freud famously said, “The interpretation of dreams is the key to unlocking the unconscious mind. Isn’t that grand? See, every cloud has a silver lining.”

In all seriousness, Marcus Aurelius is making a very bold claim: should every philosophy book in the world vanish tomorrow, this alone is all the philosophy we would ever need.

Cut your losses. Discard what is not beneficial. Steer clear of unnecessary obstruction.

What adult substance was he on that day?

If this advice sounds oversimplified, that’s precisely the point. It’s a strength of his philosophy, not a weakness. Aurelius had a gift for untangling profound ideas through deceptively simple solutions.

But here’s the catch: Marcus Aurelius didn’t write Meditations for us. It was created for his eyes alone — a private journal. Those pithy lines he scribbled were meant to prompt himself to think beyond the chaos of daily life.

You know the saying: can’t see the forest for the trees.

We can apply these statements to our own circumstances, but they almost certainly carried personal meanings for him — cues that reminded him of what truly mattered.

An Emperor in the Making

Caesar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus was born in Rome in 121 C.E. and ruled as emperor from 160 C.E. until his death in 180 C.E. The story of how he rose to power is fascinating, and understanding it will deepen your appreciation.

His reign was far from smooth: he faced both political and foreign enemies while contending with devastating plagues and widespread disease throughout the empire. Yet historians regard him as one of the most respected emperors ever to rule Rome, celebrated as one of the greatest benefactors to the Roman citizenry.

However, he is best remembered across the centuries for his personal journal, Meditations. Aurelius had to rule an empire, but his temperament, education, and training led him to see the events of his life in a very different light — and today, we benefit from that perspective.

The Art Of The Real

As explored in earlier essays, understanding life is fundamental to the human condition. We seek to comprehend the world we inhabit, and in doing so, we develop a series of beliefs designed to bring us peace of mind — what we might call comfort beliefs.

Why do bad things happen to good people? This question shapes our beliefs. What happens when we die? We’ll return to that question later.

For Marcus Aurelius, studying Greek philosophers proved instrumental in making sense of the world. He focused his inquiry on what affected him and those he loved.

For answers, he turned to the Stoics and their philosophy — a school of thought emerging from the Greek and later Roman eras. While it shares elements with other philosophical traditions, it is often misunderstood as a practice of passive contemplation. It is not.

It is, rather, a philosophy of action.

At its core, Stoicism holds that the goal of human life is to cultivate reason, that all people can live within a shared moral framework, and that this practice leads to tranquility and peace of mind. They believed that our actions should not be motivated by selfishness. Instead, we should be driven by what is morally right — asking always: does this benefit others?

Beginning with the individual, they addressed a universal struggle: finding peace amid chaos. Their solution was elegant: focus your efforts on circumstances within your control, and let go of those that are not. Once you make this distinction, you can direct your energy where it matters most.

Consider loss, for example. Losing a loved one lies beyond our control. How we grieve does not. Yes, loss demands sorrow, but prolonged emotional paralysis does harm. By learning to focus on deliberate action, we can make choices that help us move through grief more constructively and more quickly.

Grief was no stranger to Marcus Aurelius.

In his fifties, while his armies fought Germanic and Sarmatian tribes along the empire’s northern frontier, Marcus Aurelius began writing in his journal. These notes served as reminders of the wisdom philosophers had taught him throughout his life.

Unpolished and unstructured, these writings are a mixture of reminders, reflections, and practical insights. They draw heavily on the Greek philosopher Epictetus, who lived and died before Aurelius’s reign. In the face of overwhelming external forces, Aurelius turned to these recorded recollections.

Meditations endures precisely because of its unpolished quality. Over the centuries, it has remained studied and relevant, offering value to millions even today. It stands as the cornerstone for anyone seeking to learn and master Stoic philosophy.

Meet Death

“Whatever I am made up of, flesh, spirit, or reason, …throw away any books, don’t let your mind suffer, be distracted, or tossed to and fro …for whatever it is that taunts you will not be there forever …even now I am ready to die.” –Aurelius, Meditations, First Book, No. 16

All living creatures share one certainty: life has a beginning and an end. Death is inevitable. The Greeks developed a practice to face and accept this unavoidable truth: Memento Mori.

Memento Mori means “the practice of reflecting on our own mortality.” It may seem counterintuitive, but this awareness helps us live in a fully aware state of mind. The practice is not unique — all religions and philosophies grapple with death in one form or another.

It may seem like a morbid practice if we are not willing to face reality. But death is universal — it transcends race, color, creed, and gender.

• Maraṇasati is a Buddhist meditation awareness practice for gaining appreciation of a spiritual life by accepting death as unpredictable and inevitable.
• For certain adherents of Islamic sects, including Sunni, Shia, and Sufi traditions, visiting graveyards is a tradition meant to confront mortality and lessen attachment to worldly life.
• The Jewish observance of Rosh Hashana is fundamentally a “Day of Judgment” (Yom Hadin) centered around accountability, personal morals, and our mortality.

These various philosophical and religious traditions help people accept their fate, meant to bring about contentment and peace.

Different belief systems worldwide offer differing promises for the faithful. Depending on the source, history records anywhere between 4,000-10,000 different religions. Even if that number was halved, the numbers alone are telling, aren’t they? And those are the ones we know about. Countless belief systems have likely risen and vanished without a trace.

What they all share is a common purpose: explain human existence, i.e., the beginning and ending of life. At their core, each struggles with the one universal experience we all face — death — and seeks to bring comfort about it.

Yet for all their differences, these traditions share a limitation: they ask us to accept, to surrender, to find peace in what we cannot change. The Greeks asked a more demanding question: knowing that one day we will die, how should we live now?

This approach — simple in nature, profound in practice — is precisely what makes it so compelling. If something isn’t working, change it. Got a bad cucumber? Discard it. Encounter an obstacle in the road? Go around it. Why struggle against what can be avoided?

It’s a small adjustment in our thinking, but the consequences of that adjustment are enormous.

“That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”

We could discard every philosophy and religious text ever written and still live a full, peaceful life with just two Stoic principles.

Something isn’t right? Change it. Something’s in your way? Go around it.

This really is all you’ll ever need to know.