The View From Above is a Stoic contemplative practice in which you imaginatively ascend to a great height — above your city, your country, the earth itself — and observe the human scene from that elevation. Cities become small. The affairs that fill your days become proportionate. The grievances, ambitions, and anxieties that seemed overwhelming at ground level reveal themselves as local and temporary when seen from sufficient distance.
Marcus Aurelius returns to this practice throughout the Meditations more than almost any other contemplative exercise. He directs himself to survey the world from high above, to observe the flow of time, to see how briefly any individual life or achievement persists against the scale of history and cosmic time. The practice is not an exercise in nihilism — he is not concluding that nothing matters. He is correcting the distortions of scale and proportion that ordinary perspective produces.
"Survey the circling stars, as though yourself were in mid-course with them. Often picture the changing and rechanging dance of the elements. Visions of this kind purge away the dross of our earth-bound life."
— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, IX.28, trans. Maxwell Staniforth
The Purpose of the Practice
The immediate purpose of the View From Above is to restore proportion — to correct the distortion that makes ordinary concerns seem larger than they are. When you are in the middle of a professional setback, a conflict with a colleague, or a social humiliation, the event can feel enormous and defining. Seen from high above, from a scale that includes the whole city, the whole country, the whole span of human history, the event diminishes without disappearing.
This is not the same as concluding that the event does not matter. It is recognizing that the event matters in proportion — not as the defining catastrophe it presents itself as at close range, but as one element in a life, in a world, that is vastly larger than the immediate experience suggests.
Marcus uses the practice in this way repeatedly. When he has been treated with ingratitude by people he has benefited, he directs himself to look at the whole of human history and notice how many similar transactions of ingratitude have occurred and been forgotten. When he is tempted to be angry, he reminds himself that the anger, seen from sufficient distance, is a very small disturbance in a very large world. The disturbance does not become nothing. It becomes proportionate.
The practice also has a function in relation to ambition and the desire for recognition. One of the recurring Stoic concerns about the pursuit of reputation and fame is that it locates your wellbeing in the judgment of other people — people who are, as the View From Above makes clear, brief and local inhabitants of a small portion of a vast world. The view from above makes the aspiration for fame look different: the people whose recognition you seek will be gone in a generation, and the world they inhabit is a very small place against the scale of the cosmos.
"Even if you lived three thousand years, or thirty thousand, remember that no one loses any other life than the one he is living now, and the longest-lived has no more to lose than the shortest-lived. For the present moment is all that can be lost, since that is all you have, and what you do not have, you cannot lose."
— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, II.14, trans. Gregory Hays
Cosmic Extension
The practice of the View From Above can be extended beyond the terrestrial to the cosmic — beyond looking down at the earth to looking out at the scale of time and the universe.
In this extended version of the practice, you contemplate not just the geographical extent of the world but the temporal extent of history — the vast span of time before you were born and the vast span after your death, within which your individual life is a very brief interval. Marcus uses this temporal version frequently, noting that the great figures of the past — emperors, philosophers, conquerors — are all equally gone, their accomplishments equally faded, their concerns equally forgotten.
The cosmic extension produces what Marcus calls apatheia in its broadest sense: not emotional indifference, but the correction of excessive attachment to local and temporary concerns by placing them in the context of what actually endures. What endures is the rational order of the cosmos — the Logos — and the capacity to act in accordance with it. What does not endure is everything else: reputation, achievement, the particular forms that human life takes in any given era.
This is not an exercise in despair. Marcus does not conclude from the brevity of life and the smallness of the earth that nothing is worth doing. He concludes that what is worth doing is worth doing for its own sake — because it is the right thing to do, the virtuous thing to do — not because it will earn lasting recognition or produce permanent results. The View From Above strips away the false reasons for action in order to leave the genuine one.
The Practice
Marcus does not describe the practice in systematic terms, but from his use of it throughout the Meditations, a basic form can be reconstructed.
Begin with the immediate situation — whatever is pressing, troubling, or absorbing your attention. Hold it in mind.
Then imaginatively ascend. First to the scale of the city: your situation is one of countless situations playing out simultaneously in the streets and rooms around you. Then to the scale of the country. Then the continent. Then the earth itself, seen from space — a small sphere against an enormous sky.
Then extend temporally: your situation occurs at a specific moment in a history that extends thousands of years before and will extend thousands of years after. The people involved — including you — will not exist in a century.
Then return to the situation with the perspective you have gained. It is still what it is. But it is smaller, more proportionate, less distorted by the closeness with which you have been viewing it.
Marcus sometimes extends the practice further, to a full contemplation of the cosmos and the rational order that governs it — what he calls the Logos. From that perspective, the question about a specific situation becomes not "how large is this" but "what does virtue require here?" The view from above is not an escape from the situation but a way of seeing it clearly enough to respond to it well.
The Practice and Modern Psychology
Contemporary psychology has identified practices that appear to accomplish something similar to what the View From Above accomplishes: self-distancing techniques that create psychological space between the person and the immediate situation, reducing the intensity of emotional reactions and improving the quality of judgment.
The most extensively studied of these is the technique of referring to yourself in the third person when thinking about a problem — a technique that appears in multiple studies to reduce emotional reactivity and improve self-regulation. The View From Above is a spatial version of a similar operation: creating distance between you and the situation in order to see it more clearly.
These contemporary findings do not validate the Stoic cosmological framework within which the View From Above operates. They do suggest that the basic psychological mechanism Marcus was exploiting — the reduction in distortion that comes from changing your perspective on a situation — is real and measurable.
Primary Sources
- Marcus Aurelius. Meditations. Trans. Gregory Hays. Modern Library, 2002. VII.9, IX.28, and XI.1 are particularly relevant.
- Marcus Aurelius. Meditations. Trans. Maxwell Staniforth. Penguin Classics, 1964. An older translation with a different literary register.
Further Reading
- Hadot, Pierre. The Inner Citadel: The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. Trans. Michael Chase. Harvard University Press, 1998. Hadot's analysis of the Meditations includes extensive treatment of the View From Above as a spiritual exercise.
- Hadot, Pierre. Philosophy as a Way of Life. Blackwell, 1995.
- Holiday, Ryan. The Obstacle Is the Way. Portfolio/Penguin, 2014.