Book 12: Imminence of Death

"Thou canst remove out of the way many useless things among those which disturb thee, for they lie entirely in thy opinion."

Death is treated as wholly natural and therefore not to be feared. It is one of the operations of nature, like being born, like the seasons; and what is according to nature can be no evil. He reduces the fear by examining it: you are not losing the past (gone) or the future (never yours), only the present moment, which is the same loss for the man who dies young and the man who dies old. To be afraid of death is to be afraid of ceasing to do what you are already, in any case, doing for the last time at every instant.

The book's closing image is one of the most serene in ancient literature. A life well lived ends the way ripe fruit falls: "Pass through this little space of time conformably to nature, and end thy journey in content, just as an olive falls off when it is ripe, blessing nature who produced it, and thanking the tree on which it grew." There is no struggle in it, no sense of being torn away — only completion, gratitude, and release at the proper time.

He distils the practice into a handful of recurring rules: live in the present, the only thing you ever actually hold; accept whatever the universal nature assigns, since it was prepared for you from eternity; and act always as a rational, social being for the common good. Do these, and death loses its terror, because nothing essential is left undone — the rational soul attains its end wherever it stops.

The usable core, and the summary of the entire journal: let the nearness of death sharpen rather than darken your days. Because you could leave life at any moment, let that determine what you do, say, and think now. Stop postponing the peace and integrity you could have today, and aim to fall, when the time comes, like ripe fruit — without complaint, grateful for having grown at all.