Julius Caesar? Discernment? What Gives?
Just Ask Shakespeare
A few years ago, I saw a performance of William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar which focused on the social justice aspects of the bard’s well-known political thriller.
Before the performance, the cast sang Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son,” and it set the stage for an amazing ride.
The song and the well-executed dramatic tragedy reframed the themes of Julius Caesar with a distinctively modern twist.
If you haven’t heard “Fortunate Son,” I suggest checking it out on your favorite streaming service. Here’s an excerpt from the Vietnam-era song written by John Fogerty:
Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Hoo, they're red, white and blue
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no senator's son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, Lord?
But when the taxman come to the door
Lord, the house lookin' like a rummage sale, yeah
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no millionaire's son, no, no
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no
Yeah-yeah, some folks inherit star-spangled eyes
Hoo, they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask 'em, "How much should we give?"
Hoo, they only answer, "More, more, more, more"
Julius Caesar is often performed with an eye toward the machinations of ambition, power politics, greed, and war. Although Julius Caesar is certainly a comment on politics from a macro level, I find the personal inner turmoil of Brutus and his failure to follow his own north star to be Shakespeare’s more compelling message.
It applies to our modern lives, whether we participate in politics or not.
Shakespeare lets us know from the play’s beginning that Brutus and Caesar are close friends, Brutus going so far as to say “I love [Caesar] well.” Shakespeare also shows us up front, through the words of the co-conspirators, that Brutus is respectable, honorable, upright, and full of integrity.
The would-be assassins need him; their reputations are nowhere near as spotless.
Without Brutus, their ruthless plot to murder Caesar in the Senate will fail.
The co-conspirators flatter Brutus, build up his ego, distract him with fake letters from anonymous Roman citizens, spread vicious lies about Caesar, and when they’re not certain their deceptive tactics will work, they go to Brutus’s house at 3 am to put pressure on him in person. It’s the classic “ticking clock” strategy of control.
In the wee hours of the ides of March, Brutus is vulnerable and operating on little to no sleep.
At the very moment the co-conspirators arrive, Brutus’s wife, Portia, who knows that Brutus is under some kind of mysterious mental strain, is trying to help him. The co-conspirators separate Brutus from his trusted confidante, and bully him into fulfilling their plan.
When Brutus fails to follow his own north star and isolates himself from the support of his steadfast spouse, he falls prey to the power-hungry senators’ ploy.
As with many of Shakespeare’s plays, the story hits close to home.
Like Brutus, we are bombarded with lies, distractions, fear-mongering, divisiveness, and information designed to get us to do exactly what certain power-hungry politicians and oligarchs want us to do.
We’re overwhelmed, terrified, despondent, and feeling powerless. When Brutus finally succumbs to the barrage of lies, there is a feeling of heartbreaking inevitability. His failure to exercise his discernment dooms him to a tragic ending.
Brutus was not given a moment to sit in silence and listen to his inner voice or share his feelings with those he trusted. Cassius assailed him in public, the co-conspirators threw fake letters tied to bricks into his bedroom window when he was at home, and they banged on his door at 3 am when his wife was holding space to help him probe his own thoughts and discern the truth.
When Brutus turned away from his inner guidance and his support system, he fell right into the co-conspirators’ hands.
The same tactics are being used against us, too, to keep us in fight-or-flight mode, impeding our capacity to settle down and feel into the truth of any situation.
The twenty-four-hour panic-mongering news cycles, the constant doom scrolling of the most heinous headlines, and the steady diet of hopelessness that gets shoved down our throats, are designed to impair our ability to think for ourselves.
Just like for Brutus, these outright attacks are aimed at disabling our discernment.
Through Brutus’s mistakes, however, Shakespeare shows us how to see the truth that exists beyond the lies. Where Brutus fails, we can succeed.
Merriam-Webster defines discernment as the quality of being able to comprehend what is obscure. We all have that ability – it’s a muscle that we can activate with practice.
So how do we do it?
A few methods that have worked for me are to walk outside, gaze at the sky, touch the ground, sand, grass, or snow, and listen to the sounds of nature. Something as simple as counting to 100 while taking deep breaths works well, too. Hugging our furry (or feathery, scaly, or smooth) roommates and spending quality time with our family members have the same effect.
In addition, we have communities to support us during our most difficult moments, to help us work through our feelings, share our concerns, and establish pathways to resilience. They might even be able to convince us to turn off our devices for an hour or so. Imagine what that can do for our discernment skills!
If you’re interested in other ways to cultivate discernment, I’ve included a few in my upcoming book, Shakespeare’s Guide to Living the Good Life. Feel free to check it out, give your local bookstore some love, and pre-order it here.