Today, I’d like to share what I learned from the book Memoirs of Hadrian.
After finishing my study abroad in Australia, I returned to Japan. I’m currently job hunting while thinking about what kind of life I want to live from here on.
It was during this period that I picked up Memoirs of Hadrian.
What Is Memoirs of Hadrian?
Memoirs of Hadrian is a book written by the French author Marguerite Yourcenar, imagining herself as the Roman emperor Hadrian.
Based on historical facts, it is written in the form of a memoir, with Hadrian looking back on his life as he approaches the end of it.
The Roman Empire, war, love, philosophy, aging, and death.
Through the reflections of one emperor who ruled Rome, the book explores a timeless question: How should a person live?
Rather than simply telling a story, it feels like listening to one person’s thoughts and values.
That’s why every page left a lasting impression on me.
What Left the Strongest Impression on Me
One thing surprised me more than anything else.
Hadrian speaks proudly about the fact that he never indulged in overeating.
In ancient Rome, lavish feasts and fine dining were a normal part of life for the ruling class.
He could have eaten as much as he wanted and enjoyed every luxury available to him.
Yet he took pride in exercising self-control and avoiding excess.
At first, I found that surprising.
After all, he was the emperor of Rome. I expected him to look back proudly on much greater achievements.
Winning wars.
Building cities.
Political accomplishments.
Instead, what he chose to be proud of was something much quieter: the fact that he had been able to control his own desires.
What Remains at the End of Life
Reading this passage reminded me of a speech by Kobe Bryant.
“Those times you get up early and work hard. Those times you stay up late and work hard. Those times you don’t feel like working, but you do it anyway. That is actually the dream. That’s the dream.”
The dream isn’t the moment you succeed.
It’s waking up early.
Doing what needs to be done even when you’re tired.
Continuing even on the days when you don’t feel like it.
Kobe said that those moments are the dream itself.
I think what Hadrian was proud of was something very similar.
Perhaps what we are truly proud of at the end of life isn’t great success.
It’s the days when we overcame small temptations.
The days when we kept the promises we made to ourselves.
Those quiet, ordinary moments may be what make us feel that we lived a good life.
Of course, if we’re fortunate, those daily efforts may eventually lead to great achievements.
But those achievements are only the result.
The real value lies in the everyday actions that made them possible.
I Want More Days When I Can Win Against Myself
I’ve wanted to become someone who wakes up early, but I’ve failed many times.
Even when I tell myself, “Tomorrow will be different,” I haven’t been able to make it stick.
Still, this book changed the way I think.
The goal isn’t simply becoming someone who wakes up early.
It’s adding more days when I can be just a little stronger than I was yesterday.
Maybe that’s what will matter most when I look back on my life someday.
So I’ll keep trying.
No matter how many times I fail, I want to slowly increase the number of days when I can win against myself.
Final Thoughts
Through this blog, I write about building a more intentional life.
Reading, waking up early, exercising, working, and the small habits that shape everyday life.
None of them are particularly extraordinary, but I believe that becoming just a little better than yesterday is what truly matters.
I also document this journey through my YouTube videos and Instagram posts.
If this article resonated with you, I’d be happy if you checked them out as well.
Get Memoirs of Hadrian
Memoirs of Hadrian gave me a chance to ask myself an important question:
What will I be proud of at the end of my life?
Rather than celebrating dramatic success, it’s a book that quietly reminds us of the value of small, everyday victories.
If it sounds interesting, I highly recommend picking up a copy.
