Ryan talks about speaking to service members at Aviano Air Base in Italy. Ryan reads a passage from Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It was a somber scene as the pallbearers marched down Pine Street carrying the coffin of General William Tecumseh Sherman on this day 129 years ago. It grew more somber still as the rain started to drizzle and then rain steadily. The temperatures dropped as the procession winded through the streets. Repeatedly along the seven mile walk, the former Confederate General Joe Johnston, then old and frail, but who had faced off in battle against Sherman many times, was asked if someone could take his place so that he might go inside and warm up. No, Johnson said, I’m fine. An aide suggested that he at least put on a hat to keep dry. Once again, Johnson refused. It would be impolite. It would be disrespectful to the dead. “If the positions were reversed,” he said, “Sherman would not do so.” So he continued to carry the coffin, bare-headed in the rain, in honor of his former enemy, the man who had beaten and dominated him.  Marcus Aurelius wrote of how we should do the right thing, whether it’s cold or warm, whether we’re tired or well-rested, whether we’re despised or honored. Johnson faced each of these dilemmas that day. He was tired, he was cold, he could not have been been particularly popular with the thousands of Yankees who watched his labored steps. But he did what he thought was right— like his former opponent, he lived by a code and that was all that mattered. He wanted to pay his respects, even if it was inconvenient, even if it wasn’t fully understood. And he was willing to sacrifice more than just a few minutes of comfort to make that statement. Because at that funeral Joe Johnson caught pneumonia. Within a month, he was dead.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

One of the most remarkable traditions of ancient Rome—and one for which we have no real modern analog—was the tradition of wealthy, successful families adopting and raising young men (sometimes women) to be their heir. Scipio Aemilianus, one of the early patrons of Stoicism, for instance, was adopted into the famous Scipio family, while his elder brother Quintus was adopted by the Fabii family, an equally grand legacy. Seneca was not adopted (nor did he adopt anyone), but his brother Novatus was adopted by Lucius Junius Gallio, an admired rhetorician, and eventually changed his name accordingly. You might be familiar with it, in fact, because Gallio—Seneca’s brother—appears in the Bible, having fairly adjudicated a legal case against the apostle Paul. Marcus Aurelius himself underwent a similar process when Hadrian (adopted by Trajan) adopted Antoninus who in turn adopted Marcus Aurelius. The point of today’s email is not to tell you to rush out and sign up to be a foster parent—although it would be wonderful if more people did this—but to suggest a more modern analogy. The process of choosing a promising young person, mentoring them, guiding their ascent into public life, looking out for them, helping pass along some of the advantages and wisdom you have accumulated—this is a timeless idea. It makes rational sense why fathers and mothers do this for their own children (and grandchildren) but it is truly beautiful when strangers do it for each other. When we help others get ahead not because they are our blood, but because we see something in them, or simply because we are in the privileged position of having such benefits to share. Remember, the Stoics believed that we were all in this thing together. That we were all part of the same hive, that we were all serving the same great cause—be it the empire, the nation, the human race—and therefore we are obligated to help others. To lend a hand. To adopt. To advocate for. To cultivate.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s another mess. It’s not your fault, but you’re dealing with it. It’s another rude person— representing a company you are paying money to—who doesn’t seem to get how this is supposed to work. It’s another example of disrespect, or bias, or plain discrimination. It’s precisely the kind of thing that pisses you off. So you’re angry. It shouldn’t be like this. It doesn’t need to be like this. When will it stop?The Stoics have an answer. It might not be the one you want to hear, but it’s an answer. The answer is that this will stop soon. It always does. Everything does. As Marcus Aurelius writes in Meditations:Keep in mind how fast things pass by and are gone — those that are now, and those to come. Existence flows past us like a river: the ‘what’ is in constant flux, the ‘why’ has a thousand variations. Nothing is stable, not even what’s right here. The infinity of past and future gapes before us — a chasm whose depths we cannot see. So it would take an idiot to feel self-importance or distress. Or any indignation, either. As if the things that irritate us lasted.This is one of the reasons the Stoics were big advocates of “the pause” (which we talk about in our Taming Your Temper course). Yes, this thing is angering you right now. But the truth is that it will be gone soon enough. And so will you for that matter! Life is short. Do you want to spend it being upset? Most problems resolve themselves. Most bad news is followed, eventually, by good news. Most frustrations lessen with time. Use that to your advantage. Don’t give them more substance and permanence than they deserve. Go with the flow. Don’t be angry. It’s pointless. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Imagine writing a book that sells millions of copies over the course of nearly a decade, and then, out of nowhere, another author comes along and challenges it. What would you do? In Malcolm Gladwell’s massive bestseller Outliers: The Story of Success, he posits that 10,000 hours of deliberate practice is required to master any skill. Implicit in Gladwell’s argument is that success is the manifestation of specialization. If you want to be among the best at something, you have to focus solely on that singular skill. David Epstein first disputed the 10,000-hour rule in his book The Sports Gene. He was then invited to the MIT Sloan Sports Analytics Conference to debate Gladwell on this topic of specialization. Neither they or their critics would have predicted the friendship that came out of the debate. But their discussions spawned the ideas that became Epstein’s second book, Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World—which doesn’t just challenge the 10,000-hour rule, it may well debunk it. How did Gladwell take it? As Epstein explained in our interview with him for DailyStoic.com:He could have viewed our ideas as in zero-sum competition. But he didn’t. He viewed it as an opportunity to engage in more discussion—often politely antagonistic but very productive discussion—and consequently we learned from one another. [This] set in motion what became not only a really productive intellectual relationship for me, but also a model of how two people publicly associated with certain ideas can engage without forcing zero-sum competition.Seneca deliberately read and immersed himself in the work of people he disagreed with. He frequently and unapologetically quotes Epicurus, the head of a rival philosophical school! Knowing this may be perceived as abandoning the writings of his avowed philosophical school, he often clarifies his intentions. “I am wont to cross over even into the enemy’s camp,” he explains, “not as a deserter, but as a scout.” Like Gladwell and Epstein, he didn’t view Epicurus’ ideas as in zero-sum competition with his own. They were a chance to learn. They were not an obstacle but an opportunity to broaden and bolster his intellectual arsenal. “If someone is able to show me that what I think or do is not right, I will happily change,” Marcus said. “For I seek the truth, by which no one ever was truly harmed. Harmed is the person who continues in his self-deception and ignorance.”It’s so easy today to close ourselves off at the first sight of an opposing view. On all points along the political spectrum, people are close-minded and sensitive to their perspectives being challenged. Let David Epstein and Malcolm Gladwell be your models today. Break out of your filter bubble. Prioritize speaking with someone you are likely to disagree with. Practice quieting your ego and opening yourself up to learning something new. Practice seeing things from someone else’s point of view. Seeking the truth, keeping an open mind, having the humility to accept you might be wrong—this is how we grow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Cicero and Cato both refused to take bribes, despite how widespread the practice was for politicians at the time. Cato refused to be enriched by his office in any form, even though that was even more common. Marcus Aurelius refused inheritances that were offered to him, much the same way. Although they never gave us their exact reasons, it’s pretty easy to deduce. Because corruption is a betrayal of the public trust. Even if it weren’t, Marcus and Cato would likely have declined all the same. Why? Because to accept the money would have been to sacrifice their autonomy. They lived along the same principle so brilliantly expressed, thousands of years later, by the photographer Bill Cunningham: “If you don’t take money, they can’t tell you what to do, kid.”Just look at Seneca. While there is no evidence he took outright bribes, he did accept a paycheck from Nero. He accepted piles and piles of gifts. He couldn’t see that Nero was slowly buying him, trapping him in a gilded cage. Seneca’s fortune grew—soon, he was the second richest man in Rome—but his control over his own life diminished. He was tied up in Nero’s misdeeds; he was at the mercy of his whims. When Seneca tried to walk away, Nero said, “Nope.” When Seneca tried to give all the money back, he learned that’s not how it works. Nero called the tune now. Nero owned him. To a Stoic, that was a form of death (indeed, Seneca died not long after this, at Nero’s hand). Blood money comes at the cost of your soul. Bribes and corruption are not just wrong; they’re dangerous. It’s corrosive. There are always strings attached, whether the money comes in the form of a salary or an envelope of cash slid under a table. Let Seneca be an example of that. Let Cato be an inspiration. But most of all, remember what Bill Cunningham said: If they pay you, they get to tell you what to do. Remember: “Money’s the cheapest thing. Liberty, freedom is the most expensive.”See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ryan talks about putting the finishing touches on his upcoming book, Lives of the Stoics. Featuring today's entry from The Daily Stoic. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Like most solo pursuits, the artist’s life is one that ceaselessly tests one's mental fortitude. Steven Pressfield likens it to dragon slaying. The dragon being what he’s coined the “Resistance”—that voice that questions your abilities, your worth, your sanity. “Resistance never sleeps,” Pressfield says. “It never slackens and it never goes away. The dragon must be slain anew every morning.” Anyone who sets out to make a career in the arts is confronted with this reality quickly, if not immediately. The two-time finalist for the Pulitzer prize, Russell Banks, was in his mid-twenties—just married, an apprentice plumber, living frugally—when he took the leap into the dragon’s den of creative expression. It was then that he happened upon a plaster angel statue in the window of a used furniture store. It wasn’t the angel that caught his attention. “I was pointedly irreligious and whatever the opposite of puritanical is,” as he puts it. It was the words carefully carved on the angel: Remember Death. Something about this particular reminder got through to me, as if I had never linked the two words together before, had never probed the meaning of either one alone or truly considered the imperative mood, and I had to own it, had to bring it home to our little apartment and hang it above my writing table, so that every time I looked up from my struggle to write my first poems and stories, I would see it, and I would remember death...On a profound level, beyond the purely personal, beyond pop-romanticism, beyond politics, beyond history, beyond even genocide and terrorism, it’s saying, Never forget. I took it as a command, not a mere reminder.In the half-century with his memento mori, Banks has lived all over the world, he’s written some two-dozen novels, and received widespread acclaim, but “Wherever I have set up my desk and sat myself down to write, my angel has looked down and murmured, Remember Death.” No one becomes immune to the evil inner-voice that makes us doubt ourselves, that tells us we’re inadequate or incapable, that puts us in a rut and tries to keep us there. What separates those who do great things is the ability to quell those voices before they swell. That’s what we see in Marcus’s routine writing of his impending death. He said, “Do everything as if it were the last thing you were doing in your life.” When we do, we’re freed from the Resistance, inspired into action. That’s the power of memento mori. It isn’t morbid. It isn’t dark or depressing. No, it pulls us out of the dark and depressing by transcending those petty doubts and fears. Whether it’s an angel statue on your desk, a medallion in your pocket, a pendant around your neck, a statue of Marcus Aurelius himself, or a sticky note on your computer—memento mori.And use it to propel you. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s never been easier to get information than it is today. You have access to Wikipedia, to podcasts, to social media, and a near infinite library of books. You can chat with just about anyone about anything. We live in a wonderful time where facts and opinions are abundant like truly never before in history. But there is danger in all this abundance as well. Because with this access has come instant connection and viral sharing, which means that for all the diverse sources of information out there, it’s also never been easier to see what other people are thinking. The algorithms of Facebook and Twitter can create a filter bubble. The public-ness of our discourse now makes it easier to enforce political correctness and consensus-thinking. It incentivizes virtue signaling and a mob mentality. Think about how impressive it was that Marcus Aurelius didn’t need to publish his Meditations. He didn’t need to get credit for his ideas. All he cared about was truth. He was thinking for himself, literally. What made someone like Cato so powerful and inspiring was that he didn’t care what anyone else thought. He also thought for himself. In fact, he actively practiced inoculating himself against public opinion by walking barefoot and bareheaded through Rome. He wanted to get used to being laughed at, to being different. It shouldn’t surprise us then that when nearly everyone in Rome was willing to rationalize Julius Caesar’s norm-breaking behavior, only Cato could see it for what it was. Only he was willing to stand alone. A Stoic has to be willing to do that. A Stoic has to think for themself. A Stoic doesn’t care what the mob thinks—they don’t need to “consort with the crowd,” as Seneca put it. Yes, it’s wonderful that we have access to all kinds of knowledge and tools that the Stoics didn’t have. But how we use these assets is essential. Are we just going to agree with everyone because we don’t want trouble? Are we going to seek out only what we like and what confirms our worldview?Or are we going to think for ourselves? Are we willing to stand alone?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There is probably no piece of literature that the Stoics were more familiar with than the Odyssey. Seneca quotes it. Marcus Aurelius quotes it. Pretty much everyone in the ancient world was so familiar with Homer’s verses that they could be quoted without attribution and people would know what the speaker was referencingIt makes sense. It’s a beautiful, inspiring poem with all sorts of lessons and images. But here’s one that the Stoics never mentioned, that is easy to miss unless you read all the way to the end. In fact, in some translations it’s cut off or ignored. What does Odysseus do after nearly ten years of war and then ten more years of struggle to make it home? What does he do shortly after arriving home after having been gone so long that his wife’s hair was grey and his old dog was barely alive? After he slaughtered the invaders in his home and secured his kingdom that he was blocked from for so long? It’s almost unbelievable: Almost immediately after coming home, he gets ready to leave again! As Emily Wilson beautifully translates Odysseus giving the insane news to his long suffering wife:But now we have returned to our own bed,As we both longed to do. You must look afterMy property inside the house. Meanwhile, I have to go on raids, to steal replacementsFor all the sheep those swaggering suitors killed,And get the other Greeks to give me more,until I fill my folds.Isn’t that the human condition in a nutshell? Isn’t that restlessness exactly what got Odysseus in trouble in the first place? The insatiability and greed that nearly took him and his men to the brink a hundred times? As Blaise Pascal put it, “all of humanity’s problems stem from our inability to sit quietly in a room.” Because we cannot be happy, because we can’t just be, we waste years of our life. We go begging for trouble. We invent problems. We flee, as Seneca once put it, from ourselves. Clearly that’s what Odysseus was doing. No one who actually likes themselves or their lives spends twenty years fighting to get back to it...and then leaves the day after they get there!We must realize that stillness is the key. Stillness is how you connect to yourself and others. Stillness is where true happiness comes from. Where is all this rushing taking you? Where was Odysseus pointing his ship toward? We are rushing toward death. A life of restlessness is not what we’re after. That’s not where meaning comes from. No one is saying that Odysseus should just lay back and lounge for the rest of his life—but if he can’t take even a few minutes with his family after that long of an absence, something is wrong with him. Turns out the war with Troy was the sideshow—the real battle was in this guy’s head and heart...and it was against the fear of not being in motion constantly. Sadly it’s an affliction shared by a good portion of ambitious, talented people. There is no greatness that is not at peace, Seneca reminds us. There is no greatness if we cannot be. We must be still.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

When people hear Epictetus quoted to justify not watching the news—“If you wish to improve, be content to appear clueless or stupid in extraneous matters”—they get upset. It’s understandable. For generations, especially in America, people have been conditioned to think that consuming journalism, be it in newspaper or television or online form, is the duty of every informed citizen. Unfortunately, only the second half of this supposition is correct. Yes, it is the duty of every citizen—especially those with voting rights—to be informed. No, the news is not the way to do that. In fact, in today’s world of clickbait and sensationalism it may be the worst. Just a few years ago, the head of CBS (who also happened to be a serial sexual harasser) noted glibly how a certain presidential candidate was clearly bad for America but “damn good for CBS.” “This is going to be a very good year for us,” he said, faux apologizing. “It's a terrible thing to say. But, bring it on... Keep going.”If that isn’t evidence for you that you should not keep going, and should definitely stop watching so much news, there’s not much else to be said. But perhaps there’s another way to think about it: The best way to be an informed citizen is to follow the path of the Stoics, who had no such thing as real-time journalism. You should study history. You should study the law. You should study human nature. As Machiavelli, who was forced into a retreat from public affairs, once observed, “Anyone who studies present and ancient affairs will easily see how in all cities and all peoples there still exist, and have always existed, the same desires and passions." Marcus Aurelius said very much the same thing: History is the same thing happening over and over again. If you want to be an informed citizen, if you want to actually understand—rather than know trivia about—what’s going on in the world, then pick up a biography. Pick up Thucydides. Pick up Plutarch. Pick up Robert Caro or Edward Gibbon. Read Doris Kearns Goodwin. Forget tweets about political witch hunts, read Stacey Schiff’s new book about actual witch hunts. Read Machiavelli. Read Seneca. Read about Seneca and Nero and their complicated relationship. Read psychology. Go read the actual constitution of the country you live in—read The Federalist Papers or the Magna Carta. Go deep. Go backward. Go to the real truths. That’s what informed people do. And they are fine being seen as ignorant about every other silly thing.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Watching a master do their work is always impressive. Whether it’s an orator working a crowd or an athlete contorting their body with ease and finesse, it’s incredible to see what people are capable of. We see things and wonder how they’re possible. We hear of the feats of brilliance, of courage, of endurance, and of wisdom pulled off by Cato or by Thrasea and wonder how they managed to do it.The answer, in every instance, is simple. They did the work. “First, tell yourself what you want to be, then act your part accordingly,” Epictetus said. “This, after all, is what we find to be the rule in just about every other field. Athletes decide first what they want to be, then proceed to do what is necessary."The renowned mental conditioning expert Trevor Moawad put it even more simply: Greatness takes what it takes.  As Russell Wilson’s mental skills coach, he has seen what that process looks like from the inside. His new book (with that awesome title), It Takes What It Takes, is about the kind of work we have to do to achieve our biggest goals. We interviewed him for Daily Stoic and he explained it a bit further: It goes back to a conversation I had with NBA star Vince Carter when I was consulting with them. He said at 38 the behaviors for him to keep playing were clearly defined. It “took what it took” and he had to decide whether to do them or not...That conversation helped me better explain the simple truths behind success to athletes. It also safely allows for people to choose an average set of behaviors, but the outcome will be pre-determined.Remember, the Stoics—Marcus Aurelius especially—talked repeatedly about doing what his nature demanded. They also believed that character was fate. The work you put in, the traits you inculcated, that’s what kind of person you would be, the kind of results you would get. “Behavior, which you’ve drilled into your muscle memory,” Moawad says, “will dictate what happens next.”So how can you be like Epictetus or Marcus Aurelius or Russell Wilson or Vince Carter? Set your sights on the goal and do the work. Put in what it takes. Do what your nature and the job demands. Build the muscle memory. And the outcome will be fated.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ryan talks about his upcoming talk in Italy and about James Stockdale, and answers questions from fans. Featuring today's entry from The Daily Stoic. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Seneca’s life is worth looking at for anyone who thinks they missed their shot, who thinks it might be “too late” for them. Because in his early twenties, just as his career as a lawyer was taking off, Seneca was struck with a terrible blow of tuberculosis. He was sent away by his doctors to Egypt, where he spent the next ten years recovering. Eventually, he returned to Rome, and though many would have suspected his window had closed, he quickly made a name for himself as a politician and a philosopher. Then, just as his career was taking off, he was banished to Corisca on trumped up charges by jealous enemies. There he had to spend eight years, eight years of the prime of his life, on an island far away from home. Yet, he eventually returned to Rome, rebuilt and remade himself, and soon found himself one of the most powerful men in the world, advising the Emperor. You might be sensing where this is going, but once again, at the height of his influence, he was forced to retire from Nero’s service, as the Emperor became increasingly unstable. Still, Seneca managed to re-dedicate himself to philosophy and publish some of his most brilliant works. What Seneca’s life proves is something much more bluntly phrased in Gary Vaynerchuk’s viral video, “You’ve Got Fucking Time.” It might feel like you are too old, that things have not turned out like you planned, that you’ve been royally screwed by bad luck. And that may be so—but the fact remains that you still have time. You can still make something of this life. You can still be grateful for whatever—and how much ever—time you have left. What if you had just woken up from a coma? What if you had just gotten exonerated and released from death row? What if you’d found out your cancer was in remission? Would you be thinking 'I'm getting a late start' or ‘woe is me?” Or would you be thinking, 'I'm so lucky. This is the beginning of my new life'? There is no too late, not as far as ordinary life goes; just get started. Or get back to work. That’s all we can do. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus, like all Romans, seemed to have loved the theatre. Seneca, in particular, had a great fascination for what “actors in theatre who imitate the emotions” could teach him about dealing with people in real life. Many actors appear “most dangerous when they redden,” Seneca observed, but “they were letting all their sense of shame escape.” From that, he realized that with Sulla “when the blood mantled his cheeks” it was always “due...to the novelty of a situation.” And “Fabianus also, I remember, reddened when he appeared as a witness before the senate; and his embarrassment became him to a remarkable degree.”Evan Puschak, creator of the wildly popular Nerdwriter YouTube channel, made a great video a couple years ago, titled “Jack Nicholson: The Art of Anger.” The video is not only an eight minute montage of Nicholson’s very entertaining freak outs, it’s a distillation of a very human emotion. Like Seneca, Puschak wanted “to get a sense of the larger shape of anger as a human phenomenon.” Here’s what he learned:For Nicholson—and everybody else, for that matter—anger can be a form of desperation, a noise so loud that you don't have to hear your own insecurities. The larger and louder it is, the closer he is to recognizing a vulnerability in himself. That's the challenge for an actor playing this emotion. You're not just playing anger; you're playing what's under it. Most anger isn't psychotic. It's only a thin veneer for what's brewing below, and you have to be able to turn up the volume while preserving traces of this deeper motivation. This is a really powerful insight. To see that anger is not anger but often a glimpse of what is unresolved underneath. Sulla was revealing his weakness, his inexperience, his uncertainty. Fabianus was revealing his embarrassment. In The Border, Puschak points out, Nicholson was revealing fear. “Fear at what he's gotten himself into. Fear that he won't be able to get himself out.” Although the Stoics spend a lot of time dealing with the symptoms of anger, they don’t spend enough time really looking at what’s underneath. Marcus Aurelius couldn’t remind himself to go to therapy because it didn’t exist then. Seneca couldn’t talk about processing trauma because we didn’t really understand that yet. The Stoics lacked even some of the healing strategies that result from the Christian emphasis on forgiveness. But just because they didn’t have these things, it doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from them now. It’s not enough to just stuff your anger down or cut it off at the pass—you have to figure out what’s going on way before that. You have to look at the root causes. You have to look back at the road you traveled to understand how you got to this place, this moment.Tear off the mask. Look below. Look behind. And deal with it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s unquestionably a good thing that the world is waking up to the idea of social justice. For too long, marginalized groups have been precisely that—marginalized. Oppression, racism, unequal access to opportunity have been too common for too long in America and the world. People have been way too insensitive to the trauma that all sorts of people have experienced in life, and indifferent to how those traumas are exacerbated and triggered by the way we do things. Of course, we should be awake and aware of this. Kindness and fairness and human dignity are core Stoic virtues, so there would be no objection from Marcus Aurelius or Seneca to the idea of social justice. Certainly Epictetus, a former slave, would have fit right into our modern discussion about privilege and equality. But it’s also true that the Stoics would have looked quite warily on the increasing radicalization of the so-called “woke” activists. Nor would they have been surprised at how quickly its self-righteousness has created alarming abuses of power (and in some cases, been guilty of the same injustices they claim to fight against.) Administrators and activists at Oberlin College in Ohio egged on a mob that wrongly accused a small-town bakery of racism and tried to run them out of business. The #MeToo movement, which has brought all sorts of terrible sexual predators to justice, also—it seems—prematurely deprived Al Franken of due process and cost themselves an ally in the Senate. There have been countless other examples, from the Covington Kids and the Yale Halloween costume controversy to using physical force to deprive people of their right to free speech and a surprising level of tolerance for anti-semitism, where jumping to conclusions and moral certainty have caused embarassing lapses in judgement.These movements are supposed to be about truth and justice and fairness. But like any movement, when they become a mob, or become blind to nuance or empathy, they can do real harm to people. When everyone is woke, then no one is awake. The Stoics believed in virtue, not virtue signaling. They were not naive. They knew the world was full of injustices and evil and believed that it was not just important, but every person’s duty to fight against it. At the same time, Marcus Aurelius reminded himself that most people who did wrong were not doing it on purpose. He spoke of the importance of mercy, of forgiveness and understanding. Most of all, he spoke about practicing what he preached. He couldn’t control other people, but he could control whether he did wrong himself. And this is an important lesson for everyone out there fighting for the important cause of social justice. Radicalization is dangerous, whether it’s on the right or left. Anger is the problem, not the solution. Righteousness can easily become self-righteousness. We must be careful. We must be kind. We must be fair. We must always act with the virtues that the Stoics believed balanced out the pursuit of justice: courage, moderation, and wisdom.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

For Julius Caesar’s grip on power to be complete, he had to eliminate his rivals. So too did Octavius, Caesar’s nephew who succeeded him. Claudius eliminated senators who threatened his reign. Nero, even with the moderating influence of Seneca, violently dispatched his mother and stepbrother. That’s basically the entire history of emperors and kings—an endless parade of heirs getting rid of other potential heirs and anyone who might exert influence on the throne. All this makes what Marcus Aurelius did upon ascending to power all the more remarkable. Because he too had a rival, at least on paper: his stepbrother, Lucius Verus, the biological son of Antoninus Pius. Yet what did Marcus do? What was the first thing he did with the absolute power that we all know corrupts absolutely? He named his brother co-emperor. He willingly ceded half his power and wealth to someone else. Imagine that. Why did he do this? Well, for starters, he had a problem with murdering people just because they might want what he had. But more philosophically, Marcus was wise enough to understand that there was plenty of power to go around—that the job of emperor was really hard and it might actually be better to split the duties with someone else rather than to try to selfishly shoulder the whole burden yourself. It would be wonderful if we could get better at seeing this ourselves. That someone else’s gain is not our loss—in fact, it might actually make our lives easier. That historically, those who try to maintain an exclusive and tyrannical grip on the reigns don’t actually tend to hold them that long. That we are improved by the process of sharing and collaborating and bringing people in (did you notice that there are two authors for The Daily Stoic and The Daily Stoic Journal? Both those books were incalculably improved by Stephen Hanselman’s translations and insights. Sharing works!). It’s lonely to go through life alone, to try to do everything by yourself and for yourself. That approach rarely brings out the best in anyone or anything. So start sharing. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

One of the most relatable moments in Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations is the argument Marcus Aurelius has with himself in the opening of book 5. It’s clearly an argument he’s had with himself many times, on many mornings—as have many of us: He knows he has to get out of bed, but so desperately wants to remain under the warm covers. It’s relatable...but it’s also impressive. Marcus didn’t actually have to get out of bed. He didn’t really have to do anything. One of his predecessors, Tiberius, basically abandoned the throne for an exotic island. Marcus’s adopted great-grandfather Hadrian hardly spent any time in Rome at all. The emperor had all sorts of prerogatives, and here Marcus was insisting that he rise early and get to work. Why? It’s because Marcus knew that winning the morning was key to winning the day and winning at life. He wouldn’t have heard the expression that “the early bird gets the worm,” but he was well aware that a day well-begun is half done. By pushing himself to do something uncomfortable and tough, by insisting on doing what he said he knew he was born to do and what he loved to do, Marcus was beginning a process that would lead to a successful day.It’s one that we have to follow today and every day. We should get up early. We should not delay. We should get the nutrients we need. We should practice good habits. We should go right into whatever the biggest or most important task of the day is. We want to win the morning so that the rest of the day (much of which will be out of our control) has less power over us. Well-begun is half won. So get started. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

**Now featuring twice as much content per episode**In each of the Ask Daily Stoic Q&A episodes, Ryan will answer questions from fans about Stoicism. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There has always been an odd streak in the Stoics. Zeno used to practice begging people for money, even though he had plenty. Cleanthes worked as a manual laborer for so long, some in Athens thought it might be a front for something. Cato used to walk around bareheaded and barefooted, wearing dingy clothing. Seneca was completely unafraid both of regularly practicing poverty (despite his wealth) and unafraid of showing his wealth (despite his reputation as a Stoic). He also experimented with vegetarianism at a time when it was deeply transgressive in Rome. And can you imagine the scene Marcus Aurelius created when he would write and read philosophy while the gladiatorial games raged on beneath his box seats in the coliseum? The Stoics were not afraid to be themselves, to be seen as weird. In fact, that’s something Epictetus said: If you want to improve, if you want to achieve wisdom, you have to be okay looking strange or even clueless from time to time. Epictetus also tells us the story of Agrippinus, who refused to keep a low profile during Nero’s reign, who refused to conform or tamp down his independent thinking. Why do this, Agrippinus was asked, why not be like the rest of us? Because you consider yourself to be only one thread of those which are in the tunic. Well then it was fitting for you to take care how you should be like the rest of men, just as the thread has no design to be anything superior to the other threads. But I wish to be purple, that small part which is bright, and makes all the rest appear graceful and beautiful. Why then do you tell me to make myself like the many? And if I do, how shall I still be purple?Beautifully said. And a reminder to all of us today. Embrace who you really are, embrace what makes you unique. Let your freak flag fly—because chances are it’s special. Shine on you crazy diamond. Be purple. Be the small part that makes the rest bright.We desperately need you to do that. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

General James Mattis is part of a long line of tradition of Stoic warriors. Just as Frederick the Great carried the Stoics in his saddlebags as he led his troops, or Cato proved his Stoicism by how he led his own troops in Rome’s Civil War, Mattis has long been known for taking Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations with him on campaign. “Reading is an honor and a gift,” he explains, “from a warrior or a historian who—a decade or a thousand decades ago—set aside time to write.” Yet many people spurn this gift and still consider themselves educated. “If you haven’t read hundreds of books,” Mattis says, “you’re functionally illiterate.” Channeling Marcus Aurelius, Mattis notes that human beings have been fighting and dying and struggling and doing the same things for eons. To not avail yourself of that knowledge is profoundly arrogant and stupid. To fill up body bags of young soldiers while a commander learns by experience? It’s worse than arrogant. It’s unethical, even murderous. Well, the same is true for much less lethal professions. How dare you waste your investor’s money by not reading and learning from the mistakes of other entrepreneurs? How dare you so take your marriage or your children for granted that you think you can afford to figure this out by doing the wrong things first? What is the upside of trying to make it in the NFL all on your own, and not looking for shortcuts and lessons from seasoned pros and students of the game who have published books? There is no real job training for an emperor or the advisor to the emperor, but you can imagine both Marcus Aurelius and Seneca read heavily from and about their predecessors. The stakes were too high for them not to. In Mattis’ view, no Marine, and no leader, is excused from studying. Consider yourself assigned to this as well. It’s wonderful that you’re reading this email, but more is demanded of you. Drink deeply from history, from philosophy, from the books of journalists and the memoirs of geniuses. Study the cautionary tales and the screw ups, read about failures and successes. Read constantly—read as a practice.Because if you don’t, it’s a dereliction of duty.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

If you’ve ever been stuck in Los Angeles traffic at night, you know it’s miserable. But if you’ve ever seen a helicopter shot of Los Angeles at night, you’ve seen how this same miserable experience can suddenly be made to seem beautiful and serene. We call one a traffic jam, the other a light show.The chaos of international politics can strike us with fear—wars break out, property is destroyed, and people are killed. Yet if you zoom out just slightly, all those terrifying CNN updates seem to blur together into an almost coordinated dance of nations lurching towards a balance of power. We call one journalism, the other history.Same thing, different perspective. Life is like that. We can look at it one way and be scared or angry or worried. We can look at it another and find an exciting challenge. We can choose to look at something as an obstacle or an opportunity. We can see chaos if we look up close, or order if we look from afar. Which is the right lens? What perspective does the Stoic bring to each experience? That’s a trick question. The Stoics alternate between lenses, choosing to see things in the way that allows them to move forward, to reduce anxiety, to find humility, or even humor. As Epictetus said, each situation has two handles—one that will bear weight and one that won’t. We have to choose carefully and properly. The world is dyed by our thoughts, colored by the glasses we decide to wear. So that’s what you have to think about today and always. How are you going to look at things? Which perspective will you choose? Will you choose to be miserable or awed? Terrified or reassured? It’s up to you. It’s up to us.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There’s no question that much of what we talk about in this philosophy is hard. Specifically, it’s hard on the person practicing it. Stoicism asks you to challenge yourself. It doesn’t tolerate sloppy thinking or half measures. It wants you to undergo deprivation, it asks you to look in the mirror and examine your flaws. But it’s important that we don’t mistake all this with self-flagellation and a lack of self-esteem. The early Stoic Cleanthes once overheard a philosopher speaking unkindly to himself when he thought no one was listening. Cleanthes stopped him and reminded him: “You aren’t talking to a bad man.” One of the most beautiful passages in Seneca’s letters is the one where he talks to Lucilius about how he was learning to be his own friend. He wrote that as a very old man. He was still working, even then, on being kinder to himself. The same man who was so hard on himself—practicing poverty and diving into freezing rivers—wanted to make sure that he was also loving himself like a good friend. Are you doing the same? Do you know that you’re a good person? Are you your own friend? There is a line in a great song by The Head and The Heart about this:Until you learn to love yourselfThe door is locked to someone elseIt’s true. It’s also locked to wisdom. The point of this philosophy we are writing and talking about is not self-punishment, it’s self-improvement. Nobody improves for a teacher that loathes them. No one trusts someone that is out to hurt them. Forget cutting yourself a break today. Instead, just be kind. Be your own friend. Catalog some of your strengths. Smile at all the progress you’ve made. Tell yourself, “good job.” And then promise that you’re going to keep going and keep working because you know you’re worth it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

You think this hasn’t happened before? Whatever it is, whatever you’re freaking out about?A crisis at the borders. Agitators riling up the youth. Excess and immorality. Rising demagogues. Distrust in institutions. A backlash against free speech and expression.It’s scary because it seems new—like things are breaking down, right? Except it’s not remotely new. Each one of those things was happening during Marcus Aurelius’s reign. They were happening during Seneca’s time. They were happening a hundred years ago. They were happening back in America while James Stockdale was locked away as a POW in the late 1960s and early 1970s. What the Stoics want us to see is the big picture. All of this has happened before, Marcus wrote to himself. It happened before and it is happening now and it will happen again. Zoom out, he says, look at this from space, not with your ear to the ground. See how small it really is. Look back through the pages of history, the Stoics urge us. You’ll find that most of the things people were worried about never came to pass. The trends peter out. The revolution loses its force. Sanity is restored. You’ll find that the things they should have been concerned about, they totally missed. You’ll find people who were so focused on the trends and the symptoms of problems that they lost opportunities to address the root causes. And most of all, you’ll find that none of us are around long enough to waste any time on worry anyway. So relax. See the big picture. Focus on what you control. Change what you can. Make a difference where you can. Let go and keep going.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In each of the Ask Daily Stoic Q&A episodes, Ryan will answer questions from fans about Stoicism. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s fitting that one of the most important things you can do as a parent requires you to think about something that’s very nearly impossible for a parent to consider. It comes to us from Marcus Aurelius by way of Epictetus. As you kiss your son good night, says Epictetus, whisper to yourself, “He may be dead in the morning.” Don’t tempt fate, you say. By talking about a natural event? Is fate tempted when we speak of grain being reaped?No one wants to think about that. You want to think only good things about your kids. Damn these philosophers and their silly, academic exercises. Except that’s not what this is. Marcus wasn’t speaking flippantly. He lost nine children. Nine! Seneca, we gather, lost one early too. It should never happen, but it does. It heartbreakingly-world-wreckingly-nobody-deserves-it does. The point of thinking about this unthinkable thing is not morbidity. It has a purpose. A parent who faces the fact that they can lose a child at any moment is a parent who dares not waste a moment. A wise parent looks at the cruel world and says, “I know what you can do to my family in the future, but for the moment you’ve spared me. I will not take that for granted.” That’s what you must do—about your children, about your wealth, about peace in your nation, about the fair weather. It can all go away in a second. There’s nothing we can do about that. We can, however, drink in the present and be grateful for every waking moment. If you’re a parent looking to apply some ancient wisdom to one of the toughest jobs on the planet, you might try signing up for our email at DailyDad.com. Each morning, like DailyStoic.com, we send out an inspiring email designed to make you better, more present and more prepared. Join us now.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Stoics were learners. It’s hard to escape that conclusion when you read their writings. Marcus Aurelius begins Meditations by cataloging the lessons he learned from the many people in his life, big and small. Seneca was constantly looking at other people, studying their lives and what they did well and not so well. When Epictetus said that you can’t learn what you think you already know, he was describing his own worldview as well as the worldview of his hero—Socrates—who went around constantly questioning and putting things up to the test.All of them would have agreed with Emerson’s observation that we can learn something from everyone we meet, because everyone is better than us at something. The trouble with that advice—which few would argue with—is how easily it can be inhibited by the self-righteousness that Stoicism can sometimes accidentally encourage. Right after Marcus Aurelius finishes thanking all those people in his life, what does he talk about? He talks about all the awful, stupid, mean, and frustrating folks he is going to see in the next 24 hours. Needless to say, such judgments close us off from opportunities to learn.In her beautiful book, Memoirs of Hadrian, Marguerite Yourcenar has Hadrian try to instill in a young Marcus the antidote to that egotism. He explains to Marcus that he has actively looked at the strengths of the maligned emperors who preceded him and tried to find a virtue he could take from them.“I looked for example even to those twelve Caesars so mistreated by Suetonius,” she had him write, “the clear-sightedness of Tiberius, without his harshness; the learning of Claudius, without his weakness; Nero’s taste for the arts, but stripped of all foolish vanity; the kindness of Titus, stopping short of his sentimentality; Vespasian’s thrift, but not his absurd miserliness. These princes had played their part in human affairs; it devolved upon me, to choose hereafter from among their acts what should be continued, consolidating the best things, correcting the worst, until the day when other men, either more or less qualified than I, but charged with equal responsibility, would undertake to review my acts likewise.”This is the attitude we must take with us, day to day, in whatever position of leadership or followership we occupy. It’s not enough to just learn from history or to be grateful to the explicit lessons we get from our teachers. We must keep our eyes open always, and actively look for opportunities to learn from everyone, including people we know are flawed or even evil. We must not let our own moral progress block us from learning from those further behind us on the road. Because, as Emerson said, everyone is better than us at something—even if it’s a little thing—and if we want to keep getting better, we should focus on that more than anything else.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Stoics believed in the power of ritual, particularly at the beginning and the end of the day. For them, routines and rituals were not productivity hacks, but ways of living. In a world where so much was out of our control, committing to a practice we did control was a way of establishing and reminding ourselves of our own power. It was about preparation. It was about creating peace. We recently talked to Amy Landino—who reads The Daily Stoic each morning—about her book Good Morning, Good Life. A title whose essence the Stoics would have likely agreed with. If you can win the morning, you can win the day. Amy told us that it doesn’t matter if you have an hour or only five minutes, if you’re home or on the road, if the kids have you up at the crack of dawn or you sleep in until your body’s clock naturally wakes you—there are three keys to a good morning:1. Movement — Do something to move your body. You can be ambitious and hit the gym right away. I prefer just a few simple stretches and massaging the muscles on my face. When you move your body a little, you wake up.Or, as Seneca said, "Hold fast, then, to this sound and wholesome rule of life...The body should be treated more rigorously, that it may not be disobedient to the mind.”2. Mindfulness — It's too easy to pick up the phone or turn the TV on when you don't have anything else to do. Instead of resorting to those things, start with a practice that helps you generate your own original thoughts or ideas. Meditation works for some people. I prefer stream-of-consciousness writing in a journal for 3 pages to get all the random annoyances and bad dreams off my brain so I can move forward more positively through the day.Or, as Marcus said, “When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly.” And then once he got that out of the way, he was ready to go meet those folks with a smile on his face. 3. Mastery — This one is my favorite because if not for my mastery time, I wouldn't have been able to figure out how to start my own business while I still had a full-time job 10 years ago. Focus on something that you've been meaning to get around to or that you're passionate about. Have you been wanting to learn a foreign language? Start the day going through flashcards or using a training app. When you make time to master something, you aren't allowing yourself to stay stuck on the hamster wheel of the everyday.Or, as Epictetus said, paraphrasing Socrates, “One person likes tending to his farm, another to his horse; I like to daily monitor my self-improvement.”Move your body. Clear your mind. Do something to improve yourself. That’s it. You do those three things, you’re ready to have a good day...and a good life. It’s been true for two thousand years. Start tomorrow with the three M’s.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We’ve talked a lot recently about the importance of not making yourself a slave to outside approval. Because it’s not something you control. Because your own standards should be so high that you already have plenty to worry about. Still, there is so much more to be said about this very human desire for external validation. Indeed, it is a timeless and universal problem. Marcus Aurelius, like us, wanted to be liked—by his imperial staff, by the Senate, by the citizens he met in the street, by history--but he also always tried to really think about why he wanted to be liked. He wanted to get his mind wrapped around it, so he knew what was driving him and he could neutralize its power. “You want praise from people who kick themselves every fifteen minutes,” he asks rhetorically in Meditations, “the approval of people who despise themselves?”It’s such a great point. Being liked seems important...for some it can seem like the most important thing in the world. Until you start to consider the people we seem to be so desperate to impress. Until you think about the silly things they are impressed by, and the amazing things they don’t “get.” Until you realize that they don’t even respect themselves. Then all of the sudden being liked feels almost...juvenile.To be clear, the point of freeing yourself from this external burden isn’t to make it easier for you to be a selfish jerk. On the contrary, it’s to free you up to do the right things for the right reasons. Not to pursue virtue for praise, but for its own sake with no regard for whether we take heat for it later. Many great decisions are not popular, many brilliant innovations (and creative people) are poorly understood. Should they change for the sake of people who kick themselves? Or don’t understand themselves?No. And neither should you. Do right—do your best—because it’s who you are. The rest doesn’t matter.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We all have problems. We have an employee we can’t figure out how to motivate. We have a kid with behavioral issues. We have a job we want to leave, or a couch we want to get up a complicated flight of stairs. We have clients who ask for things that seem impossible and we have trouble fitting an exercise regimen into our busy lives.What do we do with all this? How do we handle it?We must repeat to ourselves a beautiful mantra from the writer and entrepreneur Marie Forleo: Everything is Figureoutable. Everything is Figureoutable. Everything is Figureoutable. Because it’s true. The Stoics knew it was. Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations is filled with constant reminders that if he just slowed down and put his mind to it, he could figure just about anything out. Take it action by action, he wrote, no one can stop you from that. “Are there brambles in the path?” he asked, then go around. If it’s humanly possible, he said, then know that it’s possible for you. Think about Epictetus exhorting us to put each impression—each fear or worry—up to the test. It’s the same thing. Slow down, really look at it, figure out what to do next. Nearly every problem has a solution. It’s just a fact. It might not be the solution you want, but there is a solution. In fact, that’s the essence of the idea that the obstacle is the way. Each problem presents you an opportunity to move forward, to improve. No one said this would be easy, or even that it would be fun, but it is a fact that there is always something you can do. The question is only whether you will do it or not. Are there some utterly unsolvable problems in life? Like death? Or pi? Yes, sure, but Marcus Aurelius has that figured out too. As he said, those problems mark the end of all your other problems, too. So don’t worry about that. In the meantime, get to solving what you can.Everything is figureoutable.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In each of the Ask Daily Stoic Q&A episodes, Ryan will answer questions from fans about Stoicism. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Marcus Aurelius’s step brother Lucius Verus was hardly a great man. Unlike Marcus, he was not as driven or as a smart. He was not always so diligent in his responsibilities. We hear that he liked to party. But still, Marcus loved his step-brother and not only found a role for him leading the troops, he celebrated his accomplishments as well, sometimes at the expense of his own. Would Marcus have treated his other generals so generously? Doubtful. In Rome it was said that “not all men could be Catos” and that included Cato’s own brother, Caepio. Caepio was more Stoic than Lucius Verus, but he also loved luxury, at least compared to his brother. Did it bother Cato that his brother wore perfume? Would he have judged other men harshly for doing the same thing? Probably. But as Bruce Springsteen put it in one of his greatest songs—“when it’s your brother, sometimes you look the other way.” Is this Stoic? To hold people you love to different standards? To let them get away with things you wouldn’t do yourself? Maybe. Maybe not. It’s also life. In Epictetus’s famous metaphor that “everything has two handles,” one which will hold weight and the other which will not, he actually references this exact kind of situation. You can choose to grab hold of the fact that something wrong has been done to you, or you can choose to grab hold of the fact that it was done by your brother, someone you were raised with, someone who loves you and has a good heart. Which one of those is a better handle? Marcus Aurelius and Cato could have looked down on their brothers. Instead, they loved them. When Cato’s brother died, he told a friend he’d rather part with his life than his brother’s ashes. And they were willing to look away not just for brothers, but with all the people they lived with and were related to--regardless of the transgression. Marcus did this with his wife, who was rumored to be unfaithful, and of course with his son, who clearly went astray. Cato did this with his sister who had a torrid affair with Julius Caesar, his worst enemy. We must be kind to our family. We must forgive. Because they are all we have. Like us, they are not perfect. Not by a long shot. In fact, they might be obnoxious or deeply flawed. But they are our blood. We share a past. If we want to share a future, we need to see what is good in them and encourage that. Up to a point of course, but now, let’s grab the kindness handle, the forgiveness handle. Look for it, look for love...then look away. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There is a great expression: Man proposes, God disposes. You don’t have to be religious to understand or agree with it. It just means: All we can do is plan...then life intervenes. Certainly, the Stoics built much of their philosophy around this humble but brilliant insight. Seneca spoke repeatedly of the power of Fortune to dash all our plans and intentions to pieces. All we could do was be ready—was prepare for a whole swath of possibilities. What we get from Marcus Aurelius was the idea that it’s better to accept what God—or the logos—disposes. To say to these sudden changes in plans, “Oh, actually, that’s what I wanted all along. It’s actually even better this way!”That’s what Amor Fati is. A love of fate. An embracing of what happens, even if it is the exact opposite of what we proposed. Because it still presents its own opportunities. Whatever we have been deprived of by this swing of circumstances, we remain in possession of our character and our power to respond. Today, what you’ve proposed may not come to pass. Your plans may well be dashed to pieces. And so? Shrug it off. It was never your call anyway—all you were entitled to was a request. Then the chips fell. Now you have to respond. And propose what you plan to do about it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Politics, like all contests, involves winners and losers. Cato lost elections, such as his first run for praetorship in 55 BCE and his run for consul in 51 BCE. Cicero lost some as well. James Stockdale lost in a landslide as Ross Perot’s running mate, after one of the worst drubbings in vice presidential debate history. As long as there have been Stoics running for office—from the days of ancient Greece through Rome and up to today—there have been Stoics who lost. The same is true for all Stoics for all time. Chrisyppius, the philosopher and distance runner, would have certainly lost races. There were Stoics who lost battles (Cato being one) and Stoics who lost deals or experienced crushing financial setbacks (Zeno being another). How should a Stoic respond to such a loss? With humor, with determination, and with perspective. Zeno, remarking on the fact that he had lost his entire fortune when a convoy of ships carrying his goods was wrecked, joked, “Thus Fortune did drive me to philosophy.” Other Stoics said less...they just kept going. They ran for the next public office, rebuilt their fortunes, retreated with their troops for the next battle. More recently, Mitt Romney, who lost to Barack Obama for the Presidency in 2012, captured the proper attitude as well, when asked by a reporter who seemed to assume he was still dwelling on that setback. “My life is not defined in my own mind by political wins and losses,” Romney said. “You know, I had my career in business, I’ve got my family, my faith—that’s kind of my life, and this is something I do to make a difference. So, I don’t attach the kind of—I don’t know—psychic currency to it that people who made politics their entire life.” But more than what he said, Romney seems to be living with the right attitude. In 2018, he ran for an open Senate seat in Utah and won it—taking office with a long list of things he wanted to accomplish, not for himself but for what he thinks his grandchildren will expect of his generation. As for becoming president? He’s got no need for higher office. He’s making do with what’s in front of him. “I’m not in the White House. Tried for that job,” Romney said. “I didn’t get it. So all I can do from where I am is to say, ‘All right, how do we get things done from here?’”It’s inevitable that we will lose in life. We’ll get passed over for the promotion. We’ll get beaten in the final game of the season. A competitor will take all in a winner-take-all market. The question for the Stoic is not “Why?” or “How come?” or “Isn’t life unfair?” It is simply: “Ok. What next?” It is, as Romney said, “How can I get things done from here?” It is: What will I do in response?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

"Alexander the Great and his mule driver both died and the same thing happened to both." It is one of Marcus Aurelius’s most withering lines. The most powerful conqueror on earth was, Marcus implied, in the end, no better or no less mortal, than the man who drove his baggage cart. It is a powerful point, particularly when one considers that, for thousands of years, we haven’t been sure what actually killed Alexander. He died mysteriously at age 32, far from home. Was he killed by his men in a mutiny? Did he have a type of typhoid? Or cirrhosis from alcoholism? No one knows. One new theory has emerged, this time from health scientists in New Zealand, and it only further enhances Marcus's humbling analogy. The evidence points to the idea that Alexander was killed by a rare autoimmune disease called Guillain-Barre Syndrome that pits the body's immune system against its nervous system. It would have been excruciatingly painful and terrifying as Alexander was suddenly struck with a fever and sharp abdominal pains. Soon enough, he would be paralyzed and unable to speak. As his breathing slowed to next to nothing, his perplexed doctors and friends would pronounce him dead—even though he lived, frozen and alone, speechless and scared, for several more days. His men would cry at the sight of his body, which showed no signs of decay, believing it to be proof that he was a god. But Alexander was all too mortal. He was dying right there in front of them—unable even to cry for help or stop them from burying him alive. (You may remember a similar meditation we have on this very terrifying idea)In a way, Marcus did not go far enough with his biting line. What happened to Alexander the Great was likely far worse than what happened to his mule driver—who, for all we know, may have died peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by loved ones. No amount of money or fame or military achievement could insulate Alexander from this brutal stroke of fate. In the end, he was equal—or less than equal—to everyone else who ever lived. He died and he had no control over how. The same is true for us. Being a billionaire or a four-star general doesn’t stop the growth of malignant cells into cancer. It won’t prevent your plane from crashing. It can’t change your genetics. And even if it does increase your lifespan, in the end, you end up in the same ground as everyone else.We all end up as worm food, soon enough. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Let’s live and be good while we can. Memento Mori.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Marcus Aurelius and Seneca both made no secret of their objection to escapism. They both spoke negatively of people who frittered their existence away, chasing one tourist destination after another. Seneca likened these folks to someone tossing and turning in bed, just trying to get comfortable. Meanwhile, they were sleeping their lives away. The only real retreat could be found by looking inward, Marcus said, by escaping into your own soul. So you might think that the Stoics were homebodies. Nothing could be further from the truth. Cato visited countless places across the vast expanse of the Roman empire. So did Panaetius and Cicero and Seneca. Marcus Aurelius traveled as far as Budapest, some 750 miles from Rome. When he said he was a citizen of the world, he meant it—for he had seen large swaths of it. It can hardly be said that he or any of the Stoics were overly inclined to stick close to home. However, what the travels of all those Stoics tended to have in common is that they were mostly done as part of their official duties. Cato traveled to visit philosophers under whom he wanted to study. Cicero traveled for official postings in distant lands. “Life is warfare and a journey far from home,” Marcus wrote, likely from Carnuntum, a distant Roman fortress near the borders of present-day Austria and Slovakia. Unlike his stepfather Antoninus, who never left Italy, Marcus Aurelius was on the road a lot as Emperor. Although it wasn’t always pleasant, it undoubtedly influenced his philosophy and his world view. He could have sent someone else to inspect the troops on his behalf, but he chose to go. He almost always said “Yes” to the opportunity to explore and see places he hadn’t been to. And so should you. Even if it’s only a trip to Akron or Tampa. Even if it means a multi-leg flight in coach. There is beauty everywhere. Things to learn everywhere. New perspectives everywhere. History everywhere. If the calls of duty and the road converge, count yourself lucky and go.Like everything within Stoicism, balance and moderation remain key. Don’t ditch your family for the chance to attend an unnecessary conference in Vegas. Don’t neglect your work just because someone is offering you a companion ticket to who knows where. Don’t use traveling as an excuse to indulge bad habits or disrupt your daily rituals. But the world is an incredible place, and we have only a short term here, so when you get the chance to explore, take it!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In each of the Ask Daily Stoic Q&A episodes, Ryan will answer questions from fans about Stoicism. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There are a lot of tensions in Stoicism, as we have talked about before. How do you balance acquiescing to fate and embracing your own agency? How do you balance being aware of the dangers of the future without worrying about or fearing it? How do you think regularly of your own death without losing your taste for life?But perhaps the most relevant tension today is the one about balancing a philosophical detachment from external events and our obligations to contribute to society and democracy. As the statesman Pericles said, “One person’s disengagement is untenable unless bolstered by someone else’s commitment.” If you decide not to vote because voting seems so statistically insignificant, or you ignore the injustice happening in the world because it doesn’t affect you, it make might your life a little more peaceful, but the result is an incremental increase in the suffering of others—whether that is the additional burden placed on others to carry your part of the load or an elongation of the injustice they are trying to ameliorate. Every famine, every plague, every genocide, every repressive regime that has terrorized a part of the globe since the end of World War II and the reorganization of the world order, one could argue owes the length of its reign to just the kind of disengagement Pericles was talking about. Five years, ten years, thirty years—those numbers could have been halved, if they weren’t happening so far away that it didn’t affect us. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Clearly, the Stoics believed that turning off noise and chatter was not in conflict with actively participating in civic life. How could Marcus have been emperor or Cato and Seneca senators if it were otherwise? In fact, what they would argue is that by choosing to ignore the trivial we free up energy to engage with and care about the essential. Yes, there is a lot going on in the world. Yes, a lot of it is outside of our control—or in the big scheme of things is very inconsequential. But this is not an excuse for apathy or for retreating exclusively into your private affairs. We are all in this thing together. We are obligated to contribute to the common good. Because if we don’t...the whole thing falls apart. Not caring is privilege. Complete detachment is criminal self-indulgence. It is a rejection of our duty and our potential. Speaking of which, there is a profound humanitarian crisis happening in the United States that,. no matter your views on immigration reform, we can all agree needs to be addressed—innocent children do not deserve to suffer. Currently, we have thousands of children being housed on American soil in abhorrent conditions — they have little access to adequate food, hygienic products, medical care, and safe places to sleep. Children are sick, traumatized, even dying. Click here to donate to any one of a number of charities and organizations that are doing work on the border to help those in need. It’s our duty to help.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The ask is just an ask, you know.Whether they’re asking you to pass the salt or asking you for a hundred thousand dollar loan, whether they’re asking you what you weigh or if you can come in and work on Sunday, the ask is just the ask.We decide that it’s offensive or presumptuous or rude. That’s what Epictetus was saying when he observed that it’s not events that upset us, but our judgement about events. The request is objective—just words coming out of someone’s mouth. The opinion that it’s objectionable is just that. Your opinion. We have to remember that we hold this power. We don’t need to get upset. We don’t need to be taken apart. We just need to realize that all someone has done is utter some words at us, and that we are free to ignore them, grant the request, or politely explain why we’re not interested. Epictetus said that when we get offended—when we get upset and think, “How dare they?” or “Wow, that’s a huge imposition they just tried to foist on me”—we are complicit. We have chosen to be upset. We have chosen to hear or read the request that way. We could have just let it go. We could have seen it for what it was—simply an ask. And then moved on. We have that power. We choose whether we exercise it or not. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s a staple of entertainment shows and those clickbait-y links at the bottom of the page on news websites: Where are they now? What happened to those famous TV stars of your youth? You’ll never believe what so-and-so is up to today.Funnily enough, Marcus Aurelius liked to play this game too. He’d say: Think about the emperors who came before you. Think about this famous conqueror or that notorious philosopher. Think of the wealthy or the powerful with their insatiable appetites and ambitions. Where are they now?They’re dead. That’s what he’d say. They’re dead and gone and almost completely forgotten.It’s a humbling thought, one that we could all be reminded of from time to time. Because the celebrity stories are skewed by the survivorship bias. The reporter either tells you about how so-and-so went on to huge stardom or how they struggled with addiction for years but are finally turning things around. Maybe the story tells you that the band broke up and now that rockstar is a school teacher in Cleveland. But inevitably, where they are now is “alive.” It’s never that the hard hand of fate took them from us too early. It’s never that international fame helped them beat cancer. It’s never that they got old, drifted into obscurity, passed away, and the world moved on.But this happens and it is inexorable. No matter who we are or what we’re doing. We all, in our own way, with enough time, end up like the punchline in this Clickhole article: 7 Famous Dogs From The ’90s That Are Definitely Dead Now.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Greeks and the Romans were known for their parties. They threw huge ones. Seneca famously owned—not rented—three hundred ivory tables for entertaining. Imagine that. The ancients also knew how to drink. Cato liked to drink. So did Socrates. There’s no evidence that Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus and Seneca didn’t eitherBut the accounts of their drinking don’t square one to one with our modern times. You see, the Greeks and the Romans were famous for watering down their wine. In fact, anyone who didn’t water down their wine was considered barbaric—someone who was out of control. The poet Hesiod—a favorite of Marcus and Seneca and many of the Stoics—actually said that three parts water and one part wine was the proper ratio. Nobody but the drunks drank their alcohol neat.For much of history the symbol of mixing water and wine has been a kind of symbol for that essential Stoic virtue that we talk about so much here: Moderation. Their wine was quite strong in those days, so to take this intoxicating but enjoyable pleasure and dilute it a bit? That was not only necessary, but it was an important metaphor. It’s one we should think about today. What vices or indulgences do we have that we might “add a little water” to? Maybe if you drink soda, you can start mixing in some diet. Or if you like lemonade or tea, you can mix a little bit of sweetened into your unsweetened—rather than the other way around. Water down your television time by reading during the commercial breaks. Water down your night out with friends by listening to a podcast or an audiobook on the way out. Water down your workout regime with rest days. Water down your whirlwind love affair with time apart. Moderation is key. Don’t overdo anything. Don’t take virtue or vice in its pure or unadulterated form. Balance. Soften. Enjoy.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It would be wonderful if teams didn’t cheat and refs always got the calls right. It’d be wonderful if people in the media knew what they were talking about and didn’t stake out positions just to be controversial or contrarian. It’d be wonderful if other politicians operated in good faith and put country above partisanship. It’d be wonderful if drivers were courteous and followed all the rules of the road. But we know that this is simply not how things go. They never have, and they never will. So where does that leave us? It leaves us to focus on the one thing we can control. As Marcus Aurelius wrote, it doesn’t matter what other people say or think, it only matters what you do.An athlete doesn’t control the weather or the conditions on the field. They only control how they play. A politician doesn’t control the game of politics, only how they choose to play it. We don’t control whether we get credit for our good deeds, or whether our hard work is noticed. We don’t control the economy. We don’t control whether we were born rich or poor. What we control is what we do in response. What you control is how you play. You control how you play.Not whether you win.You control how you play.Not if people like you. You control how you play.Not if the crowd cheers you on. You control how you play.That’s it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In each of the Ask Daily Stoic Q&A episodes, Ryan will answer questions from fans about Stoicism. You can also find these videos on the Daily Stoic YouTube channel.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

“My pain is self-chosen,” Layne Staley sings on the melancholy Mad Season hit, River of Deceit. “At least I believe it to be.” That belief, the Stoics would concur, is well-founded. Pain is a choice. Now before you get upset hearing that, wait a second. We’re not talking about physical pain. You don’t choose the stabbing pains from a knife wound or a back injury. It’s not your fault that cancer treatment is brutal, and no one is saying that people ask to be abused, physically or otherwise. What the Stoics refer to as a chosen pain is the sense of being wronged. "Choose not to be harmed,” Marcus Aurelius wrote, “and you won't feel harmed. Don't feel harmed—and you haven't been." He means that if you don’t feel like you’ve been singled out or screwed over, then were you? No, because that’s subjective. Just as it was subjective whether you thought the intention of this email was victim-blaming or whether you see it for what it is: a different way to think about the situations we find ourselves in throughout life. Getting cut from a team—that’s objective. A sense that you were dealt a grave injustice? That isn’t. The resentment you decide to nurse for getting cut? That’s self-chosen pain. And choosing it usually comes at the expense of getting back to work and earning your spot (or changing teams so you’re no longer at the mercy of that capricious coach). Being born poor or dyslexic or being at the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s not your fault. No one is disputing the realness of the pain that would cause. But what is less real—what’s chosen—is the chip you carry on your shoulder about it. So is deciding to lay down and quit. Or to focus on who you can blame. Believe that. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Stoics were all about routine and repetition. It wasn’t just about knowing what the right thing was, it was about doing it daily. Fueling the habit bonfire, they said. It was about creating muscle memory. Epictetus said that philosophy was something that should be kept at hand every day and night. Indeed, the title of his book Enchiridion actually means “small thing in hand,” or handbook. Seneca, for his part, talked about repeatedly diving back into the great texts of history—rather than chasing every new or exciting thing published. We quoted him on that exact idea last week. “You must linger among a limited number of master-thinkers, and digest their works,” he said, “if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind.”One of the reasons we wrote The Daily Stoic was to help accomplish just that. We thought it was pretty remarkable that despite more than two thousand years of popularity, no one had ever put the best of the Stoics in one book—let alone one that was easy to carry, read and study. It’s been pretty incredible to see the success it’s had since its release in 2016, having now sold well over a half million copies in more than a dozen languages. The book has spent more weeks on the bestseller list than any other book about Stoicism ever. In celebration of that—to help encourage another year of Stoicism for you and everyone you know, the ebook is $1.99 in the US (and on sale in the UK) for the next week if you haven’t picked one up yet!Of course, the success of the book is a reflection of the power of Stoic teachings more than anything else. But it’s also a testament to the power of combining the right idea with the right medium. Marcus Aurelius was a brilliant mind and a beautiful writer, but his Meditations is not organized in any coherent way. While Marcus acknowledges many other Stoics, including Epictetus, neither Marcus nor Epictetus acknowledge Seneca in the writings they left, even though Epictetus was also in proximity to Nero’s court at the same time. What we have from Epictetus is really a collection of quotes and highlights from his lectures jotted down by his student Arrian, and what we have of Arrian’s work is only half of what originally existed. Just ploughing straight through those writings is, for many, not the best way to digest the philosophy—it’s almost un-Stoic in its disorderliness. Good practice is not random. It is organized. Stoicism is designed to be a practice and a routine. It’s a lifelong pursuit that requires diligence and repetition and concentration. (Pierre Hadot called it spiritual exercising). That’s one of the benefits of the page-a-day (with monthly themes) format we organized the Stoics into (and the weekly themes in The Daily Stoic Journal). It’s putting one important thing up for you to review—to have at hand—and to fully digest. Every single day over the course of a year, and preferably year in and year out. It's something you’re supposed to keep within reach at all times—which is why a collection of the greatest hits, presented daily, was so appealing to us.So here we are, beginning 2020, and we hope you’ll give The Daily Stoic a chance, in print or with this discounted ebook. And that you’ll pick up journaling with The Daily Stoic Journal or some other notebook. Because if 2020 is anything like 2019, you’re going to need it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Clearly the Stoics were doers. They ran for public office. They fought in the army. They started business ventures. They created artistic works. How can this fit, though, with what Marcus called “the art of acquiescence?” Isn’t this resignation a contradiction? If you believe in a kind of predetermination, why bother?Perhaps the way through this puzzle is best captured in a quote from Democritus, a pre-Socratic philosopher admired by the Stoics (Seneca most of all). Democritus said, “Boldness is the beginning of action. But fortune controls how it ends.”What that means is that the Stoic believes in their power to, say, write a book, but not in their power to determine whether people will like it or buy a lot of copies of it. A Stoic will fight bravely in battle but know that the outcome is determined by so many other things. They will run for office, they will start a business, they will compete in an athletic event—but whether they win? That’s not up to them. Whether they give it their best, boldest, and hardest effort? Well, that is. That’s the message for today—in fact, it’s the perfect message for today, as we begin a new year and a new decade. All we control are the beginnings of things. We control how we start. We control our first move. Whether we say hello to a pretty stranger, but not whether they reciprocate. We can make the pitch, or the apology, but fortune controls whether its accepted. We can plan the trip, but not when or if we arrive. We control this first minute of the long year ahead.It’s not a lot...but it’s enough, so let’s do it right. Let’s do it boldly.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In Greek mythology, the god Apollo curses the Trojan princess, Cassandra, with the power of accurate prophecy that will always be ignored. In Aeschylus’ play Agamemnon, Cassandra is brought back to Greece after the capture of Troy as one of the great spoils of war. Unlike Agamemnon, who is happy to be home, Cassandra predicts ominous deaths for both herself and her new master. “I know that odor,” she says, “I smell the open grave.” She warns him that death is near, but he won’t listen. Agamemnon ignores the obvious signs and walks right into a trap—taking her with him. Soon enough, they are both murdered by Clytemnestra, his jealous, cheating wife. Cassandra might not be real, but the essential truth of her warning to Agamemnon is real enough: Memento mori. The grave is dug and waiting for each us. We know this, it was prophesied to us at birth—that one day we would die—and yet we go around living as if that isn’t true. We spend our time as if we have an infinite amount of it, as if someone isn’t waiting to steal our kingdom like Clytemnestra.A new year sits before us, but how many of us are holding our noses? Plugging our ears? Closing our eyes? Pretending as if we know for certain that we have plenty more left. Blithely acting as if nothing threatens us, as if we can afford to be entitled and unprepared. As Marcus said, we could leave life right now. We could leave life this week, this year, this morning. Are you ready? Have you been living with that in mind? Or have you been in denial? Do not wait for the doctor to deliver the prophecy to you a second time: You have cancer. You have leukemia. We’re not able to stop the bleeding. It will be too late when you hear these words. You’ll never get back what you wasted.Don’t ignore Cassandra’s warning. Do not doom yourself to a rude awakening—or rather a very rude and sudden sleep. Be ready. Be prepared. Listen. Live. While you still can.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There will come a moment in your life when you are faced with an important decision that appears to have two choices: one that feels like the status quo, the path of least resistance, the way things have always been done. And then there is the one that appeals to you most. The exciting one; the new, risky one. The one that, if you make it, people are going to think you’re crazy.They’re going to think you’re stupid. Think of your career, they’ll say. You worked so hard to get here.You can’t listen to that. You can’t listen to the mob or to the doubters. You can’t look at the averages or concern yourself with the odds. If it’s right, Marcus Aurelius reminded himself, you have to do it. No matter the circumstances. No matter the fear. No matter the well-wishers who hope you’ll choose a safer path. History is made by those who take risks. Who stand on principle. Who defy expectations and conventional wisdom. The battles are won by those who are willing to go further, to go alone, to do it a way it’s never been done before. You have to do what you think is right. For you. For your family. For your country. For what you believe in. The rest doesn’t matter.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.