The Stoic Challenge: A Philosopher's Guide to Becoming Tougher, Calmer, and More Resilient

Seneca: “we are bad men living among bad men; and only one thing can calm us—we must agree to go easy on one another.”1 Another thing to keep in mind

One sign of maturity is a realization of the extent to which you, either intentionally or unintentionally, make life difficult for those around you. Consequently, you should keep in mind the words of Seneca: “we are bad men living among bad men; and only one thing can calm us—we must agree to go easy on one another.”1

A growing number of people have realized that they lack what the ancient philosophers would have called a philosophy of life. Such a philosophy tells you what in life is worth having and provides you with a strategy for obtaining it. If you try to live without a philosophy of life, you will find yourself extemporizing your way through your days. As a result, your daily efforts are likely to be haphazard, and your life is likely to be misspent. What a waste!

One sign of maturity is a realization of the extent to which you, either intentionally or unintentionally, make life difficult for those around you. Consequently, you should keep in mind the words of Seneca: “we are bad men living among bad men; and only one thing can calm us—we must agree to go easy on one another.

anger, as I’ve said, is incompatible with joy.

If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.

When the number of options available is limited, it is foolish to fuss and fret. We should instead simply choose the best of them and get on with life. To behave otherwise is to waste precious time and energy.

Many, on hearing Ebert’s story, would use the word unlucky to describe him, but a much more fitting word would be unvanquished. During the last decade of his life, he experienced enough setbacks for several lifetimes and yet was not embittered by his fate. It was a triumph of the human spirit.

It is not how the wrong is done that matters, but how it is taken”4—as did Marcus Aurelius: “If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.

Epictetus tells us that “it is difficulties that reveal what men amount to; and so, whenever you’re struck by a difficulty, remember that God, like a trainer in the gymnasium, has matched you against a tough young opponent.” And why would God do such a thing? “So that you may become an Olympic victor; and that is something that can’t be achieved without sweat.

anger is a double-edged sword: besides motivating us, it can exhaust us, so that we run out of energy before winning our battle. Furthermore, the anger we express often triggers anger in those on the other side of an issue. They harden their stance, making compromise less likely. We live in a world in which change, when it comes, is likely to be incremental, meaning that righteous anger can retard progress on the issue in question. And finally, we know that anger can cloud our judgment, causing us to do foolish things and blinding us to possible solutions.

Epictetus agrees with Seneca regarding God’s goals. At one point in his Discourses, he imagines a conversation in which God explains why humans experience setbacks: If it had been possible, Epictetus, I [God] would have ensured that your poor body and petty possessions were free and immune from hindrance. But as things are, you mustn’t forget that this body isn’t truly your own, but is nothing more than cleverly moulded clay. But since I couldn’t give you that, I’ve given you a certain portion of myself, this faculty of motivation to act and not to act, of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the power to make proper use of impressions; if you pay good heed to this, and entrust all that you have to its keeping, you’ll never be hindered, never obstructed, and you’ll never groan, never find fault, and never flatter anyone at all.

Seneca was given the choice of either killing himself or being killed by someone else. He chose the former option. Friends and family were allowed to be present during his final moments. When some of them wept, he responded by chastising them for abandoning their Stoicism, just when it would have been quite useful. He embraced his wife and cut the veins in his arms—but didn’t die. Because of old age and infirmity, he was a slow bleeder. He then cut the arteries in his legs, but he still didn’t die. He requested poison and drank it, but again, without the desired effect. Finally he was carried into a steam bath, where he parted from life. All this time, he remained true to his Stoic principles.

Stoic test strategy: when faced with a setback, we should treat it as a test of our resilience and resourcefulness, devised and administered, as I have said, by imaginary Stoic gods.

what upsets people is not things themselves but their judgments about the things.”3 Seneca shared this view—“It is not how the wrong is done that matters, but how it is taken

Epictetus tells us that “it is difficulties that reveal what men amount to; and so, whenever you’re struck by a difficulty, remember that God, like a trainer in the gymnasium, has matched you against a tough young opponent.” And why would God do such a thing?

her predicament. In his autobiography, Theodore Roosevelt offered this bit of Stoic-inspired advice: “Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.”11 This is precisely what the locked-in individuals I have described did. They were thereby able to transform what might otherwise have been characterized as tragic lives into lives that were both courageous and admirable. AS ONE LAST EXAMPLE OF RESILIENCE in the face of a setback, consider the case of the Stoic philosopher Paconius Agrippinus, who in around 67 CE was openly critical of Emperor Nero. A messenger came to inform him that he was being tried in the Senate. His response: “I hope it goes well, but it is time for me to exercise and bathe, so that is what I will do.” Subsequently, another messenger appeared with the news that he had been found guilty of treasonous behavior and condemned. “To banishment or to death?” he asked. “To banishment,” the messenger replied. Agrippinus responded with a question: “Was my estate at Aricia taken?” “No,” said the messenger. “In that case,” said Agrippinus, “I will go to Aricia and dine.”12 In behaving in this manner, Agrippinus was simply applying advice that, although perfectly sensible, is easy to forget. When the number of options available is limited, it is foolish to fuss and fret. We should instead simply choose the best of them and get on with life. To behave otherwise is to waste precious time and energy

Whereas most people valued fame and fortune,6 a Stoic’s primary goal in life was to attain and then maintain tranquility—to avoid, that is, experiencing negative emotions while continuing to enjoy positive emotions.

Although all things in excess bring harm, the greatest danger comes from excessive good fortune: it stirs the brain, invites the mind to entertain idle fancies, and shrouds in thick fog the distinction between falsehood and truth.

Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.

They say familiarity breeds contempt. This may or may not be true, but it is clear that familiarity breeds comfort: do something scary often enough, and it not only ceases to be scary, it becomes automatic.

We might pity those who are broken or incapacitated by life’s setbacks. Theirs cannot be a happy existence. We might also sympathize with those who respond to setbacks with frustration and anger. It is such a common response that we might have concluded that it is, for us humans, the default response. Look around us, though, and we can find individuals who quickly bounce back from a setback—or better still, who don’t need to bounce, since they don’t get upset to begin with. Such individuals come off looking strong and even heroic.

her predicament. In his autobiography, Theodore Roosevelt offered this bit of Stoic-inspired advice: “Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.

Theodore Roosevelt offered this bit of Stoic-inspired advice: “Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.

When the number of options available is limited, it is foolish to fuss and fret. We should instead simply choose the best of them and get on with life. To behave otherwise

Many people, I should add, have an incorrect perception of the Stoics. They think of them as emotionless beings whose primary goal was to stand there and grimly take whatever life threw at them, but this was not the case. Their goal wasn’t to banish emotion but to minimize the number of negative emotions—such as feelings of frustration, anger, grief, and envy—that they experienced. They had nothing against the experience of positive emotions, including delight and even joy. We should think of the Stoics not as grim individuals but as eternal optimists who possessed a profound ability to put a positive spin on life’s events. Rather than experiencing frustration and anger on being set back, they might experience no small measure of satisfaction on successfully dealing with the challenge presented them by that setback. It is tempting, at this point, to describe the Stoics as patient people, and indeed they were, but a caveat is in order. In one sense, a patient person is one who can suffer a setback without complaint. This is not, however, what the Stoics were doing. Their goal was not to remain calm while suffering a setback but rather to experience a setback without thereby suffering. It is an important difference.

Spójrz [...] na sytuację Marcii, rzymianki z I wieku n.e., która po trzech latach od śmierci syna wciąż bardzo go opłakiwała. Seneka poradził jej, by zamiast lamentować, iż życie syna dobiegło końca, była wdzięczna, że miała go przy sobie przez ten czas, który był mu dany.

Their goal was not to remain calm while suffering a setback but rather to experience a setback without thereby suffering. It is an important difference.

Ludzie, których kochamy, nie zostaną z nami na zawsze [...]. Dlatego stoicy radzą, żeby regularnie przypominać sobie, jakie to cudowne, że ludzie, których kochamy, są teraz częścią naszego życia. Mogło przecież wydarzyć się coś, co by was rozdzieliło, ale jak dotąd do tego nie doszło. Co za szczęście prawda?

Although all things in excess bring harm, the greatest danger comes from excessive good fortune: it stirs the brain, invites the mind to entertain idle fancies, and shrouds in thick fog the distinction between falsehood and truth.”1