The Little Book of Stoicism

Chapter 3

The Stoic Happiness Triangle

“The blazing fire makes flames and brightness out of everything thrown into it.” – Marcus Aurelius

Enough history, it’s time to get to the heart of Stoicism. What did these fascinating philosophers believe and teach exactly? How did they plan to keep their promise of a supremely happy and smoothly flowing life? How can their principles prepare us to face whatever challenge life throws at us? And how can we tame our emotions and become an unshakable tower of strength? It’s simple: you need to go out in the real world and train like a warrior-philosopher. But first, you need to know the rules to play by, you need to know what to fight for, and you need to know which direction to take. These are the core principles of Stoicism that you will learn in this part.

Now, you might think this should be fairly easy, spit it out, what are the core principles? I thought the same when I stumbled upon Stoicism the first time. I quickly got hooked, read quite a bit about it, and told friends about this cool philosophy. But when they wanted to know what it exactly was, then I failed miserably at explaining it. I realized that despite the many texts I’d read, I hardly knew anything about Stoicism, I couldn’t even manage to explain it properly to friends.

As it turned out, it’s not so easy to get a simple overview of the philosophy. The original texts—consisting of lecture notes, personal letters, and diary entries—don’t offer a clear-cut answer like one out of a textbook. And even modern books lack foolproof explanations, I find. It’s often a mix of fantastic Stoic ideas, which are definitely worth studying, but fail to bring across a simple overview to hold onto.

This is basically the idea behind the Stoic Happiness Triangle. It gives you a simple overview of the core principles of Stoicism. If you know the triangle, you know and are able to explain the most important aspects of what Stoicism is—even to a five-year-old. It’s the best I could come up with to present Stoic philosophy in a simple and visual way, combining ancient and modern literature. I hope you’ll find it helpful. And keep in mind that the Stoic Happiness Triangle is not what the Stoics taught per se, it’s my visualization of their core teachings.

The Stoic Happiness Triangle in a Nutshell

Eudaimonia: At the core of the triangle is eudaimonia—the ultimate goal of life all ancient philosophies agreed on. As touched in Chapter 1, this is the main promise of Stoic philosophy and it’s about living a supremely happy and smoothly flowing life. It’s about thriving in our lives. That’s basically what we all want, to thrive and live happy lives, right? That’s why it’s at the core of the Stoic Happiness Triangle. Do you remember the Greek origin of the word? It means being on good terms (eu) with your inner daimon, your highest self. And how can we achieve this? By living with areté.

Live with Areté: Express your highest self in every moment. If we want to be on good terms with our highest self, we need to close the gap between what we’re capable of and what we’re actually doing. This is really about being your best version in the here and now. It’s about using reason in our actions and living in harmony with deep values. This is obviously easier said than done, what supports this ambitious goal is to separate good from bad and focus on what we control.

Focus on What You Control: This is the most prominent principle in Stoicism. At all times, we need to focus on the things we control, and take the rest as it happens. What already is has to be accepted because it’s beyond our power to undo it. What’s beyond our power is ultimately not important for our flourishing. What’s important for our flourishing is what we choose to do with the given external circumstances. So no matter the situation, it’s always within our power to try to make the best with it, and to live in harmony with our ideal self.

Take Responsibility: Good and bad come solely from yourself. This follows the first two corners that say external things don’t matter for the good life, so living with areté, which is within your control, is enough to flourish in life. Also, you’re responsible for your life because every external event you don’t control offers an area you can control, namely how you choose to respond to this event. This is crucial in Stoicism, it’s not events that make us happy or miserable, but our interpretation of those events. This is when a tower of strength can be born—the moment you decide to give outside events no more power over you.

That’s of course just the frame of the triangle, and we barely scratched the surface. In the coming pages, we’ll look at each corner in detail with clarifying ideas and metaphors, and we’ll get to know the villain that hinders so many of us from expressing our highest self moment to moment to moment. But first, let’s remember the surfing analogy.

Up next is the highly important but not so fun theory part at the beginning of your first surf lesson. Oh, there we go . . . some wise guys run straight into the water, despite the warnings. It always happens. Here’s the cool thing—once we’re done here and you follow them in the water, you’ll do better immediately because they lack the basics, and that’s when you need to see their faces—priceless! However, some will come back earlier because they’ve realized they’re lacking something or they’ve hurt themselves. Anyway, let’s start without the runaways and you’ll get in the water before you know it. On the sand, get set, go!

1. Live with Areté: Express Your Highest Self in Every Moment

“A good character is the only guarantee of everlasting, carefree happiness.” – Seneca

The first corner of the Stoic Happiness Triangle is Live with Areté. The classic translation for this Greek word is “virtue” or “excellence.” I prefer how Brian Johnson, the philosopher behind the website optimize.me, translates areté: “Expressing the highest version of yourself moment to moment to moment.” Because of this deeper meaning of the word and because it apparently was one of the highest ideals of Greek culture, let’s use the original word for the name of this first corner of the triangle. We’ll necessarily use the common English translation virtue too, so keep that in mind.

The ultimate goal of Stoicism is positioned in the center of the triangle: eu-daimon-ia, to live a happy and smoothly flowing life. To achieve this goal, we need to be on good terms (eu) with our inner daimon, the highest version of ourselves, our natural inborn potential. In whatever you do, imagine there are two lines: the higher line indicating what you’re capable of and the lower line what you’re actually doing. Living with areté is about trying to reach the higher line and express what you’re capable of in this very moment. That’s actualizing the highest version of yourself, that’s being on good terms with your inner daimon, that’s when you achieve the happy and smoothly flowing life called eudaimonia.

Now, this perfect actualization of our highest selves might not be too hard to express in single situations or in our imagination, but drag us out in the real world and we fail miserably. And that’s ok, that’s what we’re here for, learning about ourselves and how to express our highest version moment to moment to moment. That’s why we’re trying to get better, that’s why we’re trying to improve our virtue. Think of areté or virtue as a form of wisdom or strength that helps you do the appropriate thing at all times, so that your actions are in harmony with your highest self—courageous, disciplined, and kind for example. Virtue is what helps you close the gap between what you’re actually doing and what you’re capable of. The bigger that gap, the further away you are from eudaimonia, and the worse off you are. Because somewhere in the darkness of the gap, they are lurking, the bad guys lead by regret, anxiety, and disillusionment.

Alright, virtue is about trying to be the best you can be in every moment. And if you’re able to do that, then you’ll have a good relationship with your highest self and will live a happy and smoothly flowing life. If you’re unable to express the highest version of yourself, this will create space for regret and anxiety to crawl out of the darkness and spread misery. This is highly important to know, but let’s be honest, it doesn’t help much yet. I mean, don’t we all want to be the best we can be anyway? (I sure hope so.) Now, apart from living with areté, the Stoics used another stock phrase for the same goal of expressing the highest version of yourself: living in agreement with nature. Let’s unravel that and see whether we’re smarter afterward.

The Perfection of Our Natural Potential

The Stoics believed that nature wants us to thrive in life. This is why the inner daimon, our highest self, had been planted within all of us like a divine seed, so that we have it in our natural potential to become that highest version of ourselves. As Musonius Rufus said, we’re all “born with an inclination toward virtue.” In other words, it’s our nature to complete what’s been started with that divine seed and bring our human potential to life. So, a person’s virtue depends on their excellence as a human being, on how well they perform their natural potential. To be virtuous, then, is to live as nature designed us to live. This is where the Stoic aphorism living in agreement with nature comes from.

Put simply, virtue is the same thing for all living beings—the perfection of their own nature. So, living with areté is basically to complete our nature. Without that completion, we lack something and our lives will remain unfulfilled. It’s clear—if we don’t live up to our innate potential, we’ll never be fulfilled.

Let’s look at an example in nature. The natural potential of a grape seed is to grow into a grapevine and bear grapes. So a grape seed lives with areté or in agreement with nature when it fulfills its natural potential by growing into a grapevine and producing grapes.

Just as it’s enough for the good life for the grapevine to produce grapes, it’s enough for us to express the highest version of ourselves moment to moment to moment. That’s all it takes. Nothing external is required to get to the good life—no villa by the beach, no diamond rings, no porcelain plates, and generally nothing that hasn’t been planted within as natural potential. And that’s something that makes Stoicism so appealing. The potential to live the good life is within all of us—whether we’re rich or poor, healthy or sick, model-like beautiful or other-kind of beautiful. All of us can get to the good life. But I’m getting ahead of myself, we’ll learn more about the unimportance of external things in the second corner of the Stoic Happiness Triangle.

Your natural potential lies in your highest version of yourself. Yet there’s more. The Stoics argued that the most significant difference with other animals is the human’s ability to use reason. Stoic teacher Epictetus explained that what separates us from wild beasts and sheep is our rational element and not the naked skin, weaker bones, or missing tails. We negate our very humanity and fall to the state of a sheep when we let our actions become impulsive and inconsiderate. He asked, “When our actions are combative, mischievous, angry, and rude, do we not fall away and become wild beasts?"

Epictetus’ point is that our ability to use reason is at the core of our natural potential we need to fulfil, and it shows best in our actions, by expressing it moment to moment to moment. On one hand, the ability to use reason is our most precious gift and, if we live by it, we’ll have a happy and smoothly flowing life—like a grapevine that produces grapes. On the other hand, it’s our heaviest burden, because if we fail to live by it, we fall to the level of a beast, negate our humanity, and won’t live a happy life—much like a grapevine that fails to produce edible grapes.

For the Stoics, then, it’s reasonable to always try to be the best you can be. We all have this seed of reason, this seed of our highest self, planted within. And therefore, we’ve got the potential to live a virtuous life—that is, a life led by reason and expressing our ideal self. This expression shows as generally honorable and praiseworthy actions that benefit ourselves and others. As learned earlier, virtue is for all living beings the perfection of their own nature; in the case of humans, then, virtue is the perfection of reason. Put differently, living with areté is the perfection of expressing our highest self in every moment. Remember, living with areté, virtue, reason, and in agreement with nature are all different expressions for the same goal.

In Stoic philosophy, it’s clear that the perfection of reason not only included rational, but also social actions in the form of duties to our fellow men, such as honoring our parents, being agreeable to our friends, and being interested in the wellbeing of mankind. As rational and social creatures, we should therefore apply reason and express our highest selves to three main areas of life:

Our own mind: As human beings with the ability of reasonable thinking, we should consider our actions rationally and wisely, and at all times try to be the best we can be.

With other people: As social beings who naturally care for each other, we should try to live harmoniously with others and contribute to the wellbeing of mankind.

In the universe: As citizens of the vast cosmos, we should try to live harmoniously with nature, calmly accept events that happen to us, and try to respond wisely.

I know, this whole areté, virtue, reason, and fulfilling our nature idea is highly abstract and it’s difficult to have a clear understanding of how this looks like in practice. Luckily, the Stoics used a more graspable classification of virtue that divided it into four desirable character traits known as the four cardinal virtues. Before we look at them, though, let’s quickly look at the Stoic Sage, the hypothetical ideal the Stoics used to portray the perfectly wise and good person—the Adonis of character, if you will.

You might have been wondering, is it even possible to be the best we can be in every moment? No, it’s not. This is why the Stoics used the Sage as an ideal, because there are no perfect humans. And we don’t need to be perfect for the Stoics, but we can at least try to be as good as possible. This is why they contemplated the Sage, they wanted to be as good as possible and just like the Sage attain perfect eudaimonia. “He lives in total harmony with himself, the rest of mankind, and Nature as a whole,” describes Donald Robertson, “because he follows reason and accepts his fate graciously, insofar as it is beyond his control. He has risen above irrational desires and emotions, to achieve peace of mind. His character is absolutely praiseworthy, honourable and beautiful.”

No wonder the Sage is a hypothetical ideal, but the Stoics say it’s beneficial to have someone to look up to and compare ourselves against. The Sage makes it easier to imagine our ideal self and acts like a signpost showing the direction. Now, let’s look at the four virtues with which we can try to deliver a Sage-like performance.

The Four Cardinal Virtues

You and me, we get closer to our common goal of the good life by making progress toward living with areté. Now, we can evaluate this progress in four broad character traits the Stoics adopted from the Socratic philosophy. They divided virtue into the four cardinal virtues of wisdom, justice, courage, and self-discipline. Living by these qualities makes a strong character and lets you take generally honorable and praiseworthy actions, just like the Sage. The opposite immoral and wicked character traits are known as the four cardinal vices. Kakia is the Greek word that opposes areté and it makes a weak character that shows as shameful and ignorant behavior. Let us look at all of them, one by one:

Wisdom is about understanding how to act and feel appropriately. Wisdom includes excellent deliberation, healthy judgment, perspective, and good sense. It opposes the vice of folly or thoughtlessness.

Justice is about knowing how to act and feel well in our relationships with others. Justice includes good-heartedness, integrity, public service, and fairness. It opposes the vice of wrongdoing or injustice.

Courage is about knowing how to act and feel correctly when facing fearful situations. Courage includes bravery, perseverance, honesty, and confidence. It opposes the vice of cowardice.

Self-Discipline (or temperance) is about knowing how to act and feel right, despite emotions such as strong desire, inner resistance, or lust. Self-discipline includes orderliness, self-control, forgiveness, and humility. It opposes the vice of excess.

These are definitely character traits worth striving for, right? If you’re anything like me, these make intuitive sense and we all, even across different religions and cultures, value these same traits in people among us and ourselves. When you read through those, you might think you’re good at justice because you always treat others with exceptional fairness, but you’re not so good at self-discipline because you often struggle with sticking to that one glass of Rioja. Now, even though it makes perfect sense to say that you’re better at some of them and worse at others, for the Stoics, it’s always the whole package that counts. Virtue is an all-or-nothing package.

The Stoics offered an analogy to clear things up: Someone can be a poet, an orator, and a general, but at the same time he’s still only one individual. And so too are the virtues unified in one but can be applied to different areas of action. So, this person can be an excellent poet, an okay orator, and a lousy general, but what matters is the person as a whole and not the single actions in their respective areas. And if we think about it, this all-or-nothing package makes sense. After all, we don’t want to call a highly self-disciplined and courageous bank robber a virtuous person.

Perfect virtue is an ideal only the Sage can reach, but it’s encouraging to see that what matters is you as a whole being. You can grow and ripen as a whole person and it doesn’t matter whether someone observes your virtuous actions or not, making progress and trying to be the best you can be is enough. So virtue is essentially one form of practical wisdom: to know what’s the appropriate thing to do, and to actually do it. And keep in mind that just like a grapevine won’t produce perfect grapes in its first years, and will continue to have some sour grapes even in its prime, you too will get better if you try to be your best but you’ll also continue to show some flaws. This imperfection is perfectly natural and something the Stoics observed in their own lives.

Here’s an example from Seneca: “When the light has been taken away and my wife has fallen silent, aware as she is of my habit, I examine my entire day, going through what I have done and said.” Seneca pleaded his case at his own court every night and shared some examples in his letter On Anger. My favorite story is when at some event he got angry because he was not seated in a place of honor he thought he deserved. He spent the evening being angry with the host who seated him and with the guests who were seated above him. “You lunatic,” he wrote in his journal, “what difference does it make what part of the couch you put your weight on?”

The point is, nobody will ever be perfect in all their actions and, as long as we’re trying our best, this doesn’t matter. The world isn’t black and white, we can’t always tell what the right thing to do is, but we can always try to act with our best intention. And that’s what I find is the easiest way to understand living with areté—at all times, try to be the best you can be, try to choose the appropriate action/response, and simply try to be a good person with concern for others and nature as a whole. In other words, develop your character. And that’s what we’ll look at after an important side note.

Attention (literally): If we want to be the best we can be in every situation, if we want to live with areté, then we need to be aware of our every step. Today, we call this “mindfulness,” the Stoics used the term “attention” (prosochê). In the words of Marcus Aurelius, we should pay “vigorous attention . . . to the performance of the task in hand with precise analysis, with unaffected dignity, with human sympathy, with dispassionate justice.” We can achieve such a mind free of other thoughts by performing “each action as if it were the last of your life.”

Imagine you’re walking barefoot along the beach when suddenly a section is full of bits of broken glass. Now you walk very cautiously and watch every step like a hawk so you don’t hurt yourself—that’s the attention the Stoics want us to pay to every action. This focused attention and continuous self-observation is necessary if we actively want to align our actions with virtue, for how could we make sure we act virtuously if we weren’t even aware of our actions? As we let our thoughts drift away, our actions become mindless, we stumble into folly, and give away our best chance for eudaimonia as we’re far off from being our best in this very moment. This will happen countless times, but that’s when mindfulness is needed most. “A consciousness of wrongdoing is the first step to salvation,” Seneca says. “You have to catch yourself doing it before you can correct it.” Just like he did when he realized what a lunatic he was for getting angry at others about his seating. Without such consciousness, our actions become impulsive, automatic, and random—exactly the opposite of what we want.

“Attention (prosochê) is the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude,” explains author Pierre Hadot. “It is a continuous vigilance and presence of mind, self-consciousness which never sleeps, and a constant tension of the spirit. Thanks to this attitude, the philosopher is fully aware of what he does at each instant, and he wills his actions fully.” Even if this consciousness which never sleeps is the Stoic’s goal, Epictetus said that it’s not possible to be faultless, but we can try and “we must be content if by never remitting this attention we shall escape at least a few errors.”

Character Beats Beauty

“Lay aside the senator’s dress, and put on rags and appear in that character.” No matter which role you happen to play in society, no matter if you wear a suit and tie or socks and sandals, Epictetus is pointing out that what matters is your core, your character. The only way to recognize a true Stoic, then, is by their character.

Think about someone you know who has a character of granite. Bruno comes to my mind. Bruno was one of my early soccer coaches. He was dependable, trustworthy, and most importantly, he was consistent in his actions. He was fair and honest not only when it was convenient, but always. He was a man solid as a rock with a pinch of fantastic humor. I am sure you can think of a Bruno in your own life and it becomes clear why Stoicism values a person’s character so greatly.

“Character beats beauty,” I once wrote in an article. This is probably not true for our times, which will be referred to as the beauty mania epoch in history books, but it’s definitely true in Stoic philosophy. The Stoics would go a step further and claim that “character beats not only beauty, but also riches, power, and yeah, even the Joker.” Being a person of virtue really means to excel at one’s character and always trying to do your best and what’s generally honorable and praiseworthy. Virtue really is the highest good in Stoicism and living by it will ultimately shape you into a genuinely good person. And that will come with extra bonuses. Let me explain.

Let’s go back to Bruno. Do you think his consistently fair and honest actions went unnoticed? No! He got promoted as a coach many times and became one of the most important figures at the club. As far as I know, everyone loved and appreciated him. His trustworthy and steadfast character brought him many bonuses. Just to mention a few: love and admiration from his players, respect and power at the club, and so on. And thanks to these bonuses, Bruno most certainly experienced feelings of joy and worthiness.

And so it can be in our lives too. When we act bravely, honestly, and just, then we might get some good feelings in return. When you raise your voice against Jimmy the bully, the victim might thank you for it and you’ll be proud as a consequence. When you tell your parents the truth about that joint, you might feel relieved. When you persevere in your job search, you’ll feel happy once you get accepted.

For the Stoics, it’s important that these positive feelings should not be the primary motives of our virtuous actions. The positive feelings should be looked at as added bonuses. Virtue must absolutely be its own reward for at least two reasons:

The added bonus (e.g., feeling of joy) is not under our control.

The added bonus could be caused by other non-virtuous actions.

You should act virtuously because it’s the right thing to do and not because it will benefit you in some way or another. Help the bullied girl because it’s the appropriate thing to do and not because you’ll feel great afterward and you’ll get a chance for a date. The added bonuses are uncertain and not under your control. You only control your action and not what happens afterward. Yes, you might feel good about helping her. Yes, you might get her number. But also, you might get slapped in the face by the bully. And you might get ignored by the girl. So, a Stoic should be willing to act with courage despite his feelings pulling him back rather than because of possible future benefits.

Marcus Aurelius describes this elegantly in his Meditations. He distinguishes between three types of people. The first type of people, after doing a deed of kindness to another, is quickly to demand the favor in return. The second type of people are not so quick to ask for a return of the favor, but privately think of the other as their debtor. The third type of people are just “like the vine which has produced grapes and looks for nothing else once it has borne its own fruit.” Like a horse after its race or a bee after producing honey, this third type ask for nothing but pass on to the next action, “just as the vine passes on to bear grapes again in due season.” It’s in our nature to do good to others, and we should do it for its own sake.

The Stoic Love of Mankind: Act for the Common Welfare

We’re social creatures with a natural affection toward other people. Stoic philosophy is full of goodness, gentleness, love for human beings, and attention to the common good, says Seneca. The goal is to be useful, to help others, and to take care of ourselves and everybody else.

The Stoics nurtured this idea that we should be concerned with other people, wish them to flourish, and develop a sense of kinship with the rest of mankind: Treat even strangers and those who oppose us as relatives—brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles. We’re all citizens of the same world. This shared affinity forms the basis for mutual love and friendship.

A person cannot attain anything good for himself, says Epictetus, “unless he contributes some service to the community.” That’s the nature of the social and rational animal we are. We’re designed to live among other human beings, very much like bees, says Musonius Rufus: “A bee is not able to live alone: it perishes when isolated.” And Marcus conveniently adds, “What brings no benefit to the hive brings none to the bee.” Our actions must benefit the common welfare, or they won’t benefit ourselves. We’re like a massive organism: all depending on one another.

Our social duty is to feel a concern for all mankind, to work together, and to help each other. “For all that I do,” says Marcus, “should be directed to this single end, the common benefit and harmony.” We cannot express our highest selves without at the same time contributing to the common good. If we seek the very best in ourselves, we will actively care for the wellbeing of all other human beings. The best for others will be the best for you.

It’s not that we are social in the sense that we like being around other people, it’s in the deeper sense that we couldn’t exist without the help of others. Therefore, when we do good to others, we actually benefit ourselves. Benefiting others is a form of virtue, and it ultimately benefits ourselves as virtue is its own reward. Now that you know doing good to others benefits yourself, you could selfishly do good to others. All for your own benefit.

And ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether we do good to others for selfish or altruistic reasons, as long as the intention is to act for the common welfare. Remember the three types of people Marcus describes? The first always looking for a return, the second thinking that the other is his debtor, and the third, who is more like a grapevine, producing grapes and not looking for anything in return. It’s his social duty to do good to others, and he won’t look for anything in return.

Marcus says that fulfilling your social duties will simply give you the best chance at having a good life. That’s the reward for acting for the common welfare, not gratitude, admiration, or sympathy—these are (uncertain) additional bonuses and shouldn’t be the reason for your actions. So even Marcus Aurelius acted for the common good for a selfish reason—because he thought it would give him the best chance for a good life.

Living with areté and directing one’s actions toward the common good is its own reward. This is our nature and it’s ultimately our best chance to live a happy and smoothly flowing life. We must not look or wish for added bonuses such as admiration from others because they aren’t within our control and can fade quickly. “But the wise person can lose nothing,” Seneca argues, “their own goods are held firm, bound in virtue, which requires nothing from chance, and therefore can’t be either increased or diminished.”

Your character, stemming from your actions, is what you can rely on at all times. In Stoic philosophy, it’s enough to try to express your highest self at all times, and direct your actions to the common good. That’s all you can do. Marcus Aurelius beautifully reminds himself that a lamp shines until its fuel is fully spent. So why shouldn’t his truth, justice, and self-control shine until he’s extinguished? In that sense, let’s light our lamps of virtue and let them shine by expressing our highest versions for as long as we may exist.

2. Focus on What You Control: Accept Whatever Happens and Make the Best of It

“What is it then to be properly educated? It is learning to apply our natural preconceptions to the right things according to Nature, and beyond that to separate the things that lie within our power from those that don’t.” – Epictetus

“Of things some are in our power, and others are not.” These are the very first words in Epictetus’ Enchiridion. As we learned earlier, Enchiridion translates into ready at hand—like a dagger—and the separation between what is in our power and what is not, is something we should always have ready at hand, ready to help us deal with whatever life throws at us. The central teaching of Epictetus was that there are things which are up to us and things which aren’t; we should always “make the best use of what is in our power, and take the rest as it happens.” This idea is the cornerstone of Stoic philosophy, and therefore builds the second corner of our Stoic Happiness Triangle.

Imagine you hold in your hands a doll that looks just like you. Let’s call it a voodoo doll. Beautiful. Now, you walk over to the window, open it, and throw your doll out into the street. You stay inside and hope for a sunny day with some lucky happenings. All of a sudden, life becomes an emotional roller coaster—without you having a say in it. Pug marks you, suit kicks you around, and Prius rolls you over. Ugh . . . life sucks! Now, nobody would actually do that with their own voodoo doll. Or would they? Isn’t that exactly what many people do by worrying about stuff outside their own control? Right, that’s the root cause of emotional suffering, to worry about outside events. Does Steven like me? Will I get that job? Why am I not taller/thinner/better looking? Handing power to things we have no direct control over causes emotional suffering. This is why the Stoics would tell us to take that imaginary voodoo doll back into our own hands, and let ourselves decide when to get kicked around and not. The point is, the Stoics want us to focus on what we control and let the pugs mark where they may.

What is it then that we have control over? Only a few things—our voluntary judgments and actions. We can decide what events mean to us and how we want to react to them (we’ll look at our judgments more closely in the third corner of the Stoic Happiness Triangle.) And our actions, we can choose to align them with virtue, as discussed in the previous part. All else is not under our control. That’s from the weather to other people and their actions to our health and body, and literally everything that happens around us.

Right, our body, for example, is not completely under our control. We can surely influence it with our behavior—we can lift weights, do some all-out sprints, and eat a broccoli a day—but this won’t make our hips smaller, our shoulders wider, our nose straighter, or our eyes bluer. There are certain things that influence our body that we don’t control, such as genes, early exposure, or injuries. The so-called Stoic dichotomy of control—some things are up to us, other things are not—is really about the recognition of three levels of influence we have over the world:

High influence: Our choices in judgments and actions

Partial influence: Health, wealth, relationships, and outcomes of our behaviors

No influence: Weather, ethnicity, and most external circumstances

“This is wholly up to you—who is there to prevent you being good and sincere?” Marcus Aurelius often reminded himself of the power he was granted by nature—the power to choose his actions and craft his own character. He said people can’t admire you for what’s been granted to you by nature, but there are many other qualities to cultivate. “So display those virtues which are wholly in your own power—integrity, dignity, hard work, self-denial, contentment, frugality, kindness, independence, simplicity, discretion, magnanimity.”

We are the only ones to stop ourselves from cultivating these qualities. It’s within our power to prevent viciousness, curb our arrogance, stop lusting after fame, and control our temper. “Do you not see how many virtues you can display without any excuse of lack of talent or aptitude? Or does the fact that you have no inborn talent oblige you to grumble, toady, or blame?” No it does not! It’s within our power to choose our behavior, even if everything else is not or only partially within our control.

Before we look at what’s within our control in more detail, let’s look at an example of it in practice. The Serenity Prayer, a prayer used by Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery communities, is basically the idea applied in practice:

“God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The Courage to change the things I can,

And the Wisdom to know the difference.”

Recovering addicts cannot change the abuse suffered in childhood, or maybe even before they were born. They cannot undo the choices they have made in the past; they cannot unsnort the coke, undrink the booze, or unswallow the pills. They cannot undo the pain they have caused for themselves and others. But they can accept the past and try to change the now and the future by focusing on the choices they’re making right now. And we can do the same by focusing on what we control—namely the choices we make every day—and taking the rest as it happens. For it is futile and therefore foolish, said Epictetus, to worry about things that are not up to us.

The Stoic Archer: Focus on the Process

As I’m Swiss, it’s time for a Swiss legend. In the early fourteenth century, part of Switzerland was oppressed by the Habsburg emperors of Vienna. In one village, the cruel governor raised a pole in the market place, hung his feathered hat on top of it, and demanded everybody to bow respect before that hat. When William Tell and his son passed the place without bowing—either they didn’t know or ignored it—Tell was forced to shoot an apple off his son’s head with his crossbow. Luckily, he was an expert with the crossbow and hit the apple in a straight shot. He was arrested anyway for admitting that he’d prepared a second arrow to kill the governor in case he missed the apple and hit his son instead.

Thanks to a storm, Tell managed to flee from the boat that was supposed to bring him to the governor’s castle for imprisonment. Knowing that he was facing a death sentence now, he hurried to the alley leading to the castle and waited in ambush. When the cruel governor and his followers came through the alley, William Tell leapt out and shot the governor with his second bolt straight through the heart, before he melted back into the woods. My fellow countryman’s act of bravery sparked a rebellion and led to the free Swiss Confederacy—hurray!

Hundreds of years before Tell shot an apple off his son’s head, the Stoics used the archer metaphor to explain their fundamental idea of focusing on what you control. Tell can draw his bow, close an eye, focus, aim, hold his breath, and finally pull the trigger. Now imagine the arrow to be in the air in slow motion. The arrow is out there, moving through the air toward the apple. It’s out of control—Tell can’t influence it anymore, he can only wait and see. An unexpected gust of wind could blow the arrow off course. A bird could fly directly in front of the arrow. The son could stoop down, or his mother could jump in and heroically take the hit.

The point is, Tell can try his best to the moment he pulls the trigger, but whether he hits the apple or the eye is not in his power. And the same is true for us in everyday life. We can choose our intentions and actions but the ultimate outcome depends on external variables beyond our control. This is the reason why the Stoics advised to focus on what we control, and let the rest happen as it will.

In modern times, we call this process focus—to focus on the process (under our control), instead of the desired outcome (not under our control). In archery, the desired outcome is to hit the target, but that’s not where the focus should lie because it’s beyond our control. It’s smarter to focus on the process that will optimally lead to the desired outcome. The Stoics realized that the process will affect the outcome. The process is about our behavior, deliberate practice, and all that prepares us to shoot well.

Success, then, is defined by our effort to do everything that’s within our power. Whether we hit the target or not, whether we win or lose, whether we drop some weight or not, ultimately does not matter. We succeed or fail already in the process. So the Stoic archer focuses on the process (preparing and shooting well); a possible positive outcome (hitting the target) won’t arouse jubilation, and a possible negative outcome (missing the target) won’t arouse despair. The Stoic archer succeeds in the process and is ready to take any outcome with equanimity and calm confidence, knowing they’ve tried their very best.

This focus on the process, focus on what you control idea, is a massive confidence booster. You know if you do your very best, you will succeed no matter what. It’s all you can do. If you try your absolute best at your job, in your relationships, and for your health, then you’ll always feel confident and at peace with yourself. This calm confidence or tranquility lies in knowing that you did whatever was in your power, because that’s all you control. Even if things don’t turn out well, you can derive satisfaction from knowing you’ve done your best. No need to justify bad results, there are just too many uncontrollable factors influencing the outcome.

It’s only if you know you haven’t done everything in your power that you will feel insecure and must justify yourself. That’s the dark gap between what you’re actually doing and what you’re capable of doing, as discussed earlier. The Stoics highlighted that anxiety and inner disturbance come from wanting things out of our control. Epictetus, for example, said that it’s foolish to want friends and relatives to live forever because it’s not up to us. As seen before, the root cause of emotional suffering comes from worrying about things outside our control. This is why we should focus on the process; the process is fully under our control. And if we define success as giving our best in the process, then we cannot fail, feel calmly confident, and can accept any outcome with equanimity.

Stoic Acceptance: Enjoy the Ride or Get Dragged Along

“Suffering is our psychological resistance to what happens,” explains Dan Millman in The Way of the Peaceful Warrior. Events can give us physical pain, but suffering and inner disturbance only come from resisting what is, from fighting with reality. We get angry at that driver that cut us off, we’re unhappy with our exam grades, and we’re desperate because the train is running late. If we look at those situations objectively, we recognize it’s futile to fight with them, because we can’t change or undo what already is. Yet, we fight with reality all the time and want it to be different. That driver shouldn’t drive like that, my grades should be better, the train should be on time. We must have it our way, the way we want it, the way we expected it to be.

This is fighting with the Gods, says Epictetus, things are as they are because that’s how it’s meant to be. Our emotional pain emanates from confusing the things which are up to us and those that aren’t. Fighting with reality, fighting with the things we cannot change, will leave us disturbed, angry at the world, blaming others, resenting life, and hating the gods.

Whenever we desire something that isn’t in our power, our tranquility and confidence will be disturbed; if we don’t get what we want, we’ll be upset, and if we do get what we want, we’ll experience anxiety and insecurity in the process of getting it as we can never be sure we’ll get it. Therefore, we should always focus on what is up to us; that way we won’t blame others, won’t resent life, and surely won’t fight with the gods. That’s where much of the power of Stoicism comes from. The internalization of this basic truth that we can control our actions but not their outcomes makes us confident because we have given all that was in our power, and this confidence lets us calmly accept whatever happens.

Focus on what you control, and take the rest as it happens. The rest is not under your control, that’s why the Stoics advise to accept it even if it’s not pleasing. Accept it first, and then try to make the best out of it. We should accept rather than fight every little thing. If this guy cuts you off, then so be it. If your grades are bad, then they are, you’ve had your chance to prepare better. If the train is late, then it is late. Maybe it’s good that it’s late. Who knows? All you know is that the train isn’t here yet. And that’s okay, because it’s someone else who drives the train.

The Stoics want us to cultivate acceptance to whatever happens because most events happen without us having a say in the matter. You can either take it as it comes and try to enjoy, or you can be reluctant and get dragged along anyway. There’s a wonderful metaphor the Stoics use to explain this. Imagine a dog leashed to a moving cart. The leash is long enough to give the dog two options: (1) either he can smoothly follow the direction of the cart, over which he has no control, and at the same time enjoy the ride and explore the surroundings, (2) or he can stubbornly resist the cart with all his force and end up being dragged alongside anyway—for the rest of the ride.

Just like for that dog, there are many things in our lives we can’t control. Either we accept the situation and try to make the best with it, or we fight it like a stubborn baby and end up crying and feeling miserable. It’s our choice. In Ryan Holiday’s words: “To get upset by things is to wrongly assume that they will last, [and] to resent change is to wrongly assume that you have a choice in the matter.” That’s why we should take Epictetus’ advice to heart: “Seek not for events to happen as you wish but rather wish for events to happen as they do and your life will go smoothly.” Very simple (yet not easy—we’ll look at different exercises in Part 2.)

Things happen that seem very unfortunate, no question. Loved ones die, a flood destroys your home, you lose your job, or fail your exams. You can’t undo those conditions, you can only try to bear them with a noble spirit, and try to make the best with the given situation. Stoic philosophy teaches to focus on what you control, take the rest as it happens, and try to make the best out of it. It’s what you do with a given situation that matters, and the way you go about doing it. The outcome, on the other hand, is beyond your control and doesn’t matter much.

That’s the kind of person Epictetus is looking for, “Find me a single man who cares how he does what he does, and is interested, not in what he can get, but in the manner of his own actions.”

Attention: Taking the rest as it happens has nothing to do with resignation. Just because the Stoics said that many things are not within our power and that we should take any outcomes with equanimity does not mean that they were unambitious, feeling helpless, or into resignation. On the contrary, resignation is precisely against what the Stoics preached and practiced. Events do not happen as they do regardless of your actions, but rather depending on your actions. With your voluntary actions, you can co-direct the outcomes. It matters greatly how hard you train and try to hit the target, it’s just not entirely up to you whether you hit or miss.

The argument that you could just resign if you should love whatever happens is ignorant and just plain lazy. It takes much more to accept rather than fight everything that happens. It takes a real man or woman to face necessity, and it takes a tough yet humble mind to accept and deal with misfortune. In other words, it takes a warrior-philosopher. Because a warrior takes everything as a challenge to become their best, while an ordinary person just takes everything either as a blessing or curse.

Just because we should try to accept whatever happens does not mean we approve of it. It just means that we understand that we cannot change it. And thus the best option is to accept it—and out of this acceptance, try to make the best out of it. “No one wants their children to get sick, no one wants to be in a car accident; but when these things happen, how can it be helpful to mentally argue with them?” That’s how Byron Katie puts it in her book Loving What Is. Sure, things suck sometimes, but it doesn’t help to fight them, neither does it help to give up and feel helpless. What the Stoics say helps is to look at them as a challenge, as a blank block of marble where we can train to express our best and ultimately become stronger.

The Stoics did not resign—they were committed to take appropriate action in the world. Marcus Aurelius was the most powerful military and political leader of his lifetime and led his armies into countless battles to protect the Roman Empire. He was wise enough to know the difference between what’s up to him and what’s not, courageous enough to focus and act upon his powers, and calm enough to take what’s out of hand with equanimity so it wouldn’t affect his wellbeing (see the Serenity Prayer).

The Good, the Bad, and the Indifferent Things

“Of things some are good, some are bad, and some are indifferent.” Epictetus and the Stoics did not only differentiate between what’s up to us and what’s not, but also between what is good, bad, and indifferent. Crucially, only the things which are up to us can be either good or bad, and all those that aren’t up to us get classified as indifferent. This is why the Stoic archer takes any outcome with equanimity, because it’s not up to them and is therefore ultimately indifferent. However, the Stoics used a finer distinction that defined hitting the target (or the apple) as a preferred indifferent. If the outcome was completely indifferent, then why would you try to hit the target in the first place? Before we look closer at that distinction, let’s look at what good, bad, and indifferent things include:

Good things: All that is virtue; wisdom, justice, courage, self-discipline.

Bad things: All that is vice; folly, injustice, cowardice, intemperance.

Indifferent things: Everything else; life & death, health & sickness, wealth & poverty, pleasure & pain, reputation & bad repute.

The good and bad things can only be found in your behavior. Expressing your highest self, as seen earlier, is sufficient for the happy and smoothly flowing life. Because it’s all that is within our power. Our actions matter greatly, and the development of one’s character is all that counts for the good life. Nothing external is needed. The same is true for an unhappy life—it comes from vicious behavior, no matter the external circumstances. The only good, then, is living in accordance with nature, fulfilling our natural potential, and thus living by the virtues of wisdom, justice, courage, and self-discipline. The outcome of our virtuous behavior, however, is down to fate, it’s beyond our direct control, and therefore is neither good nor bad, but indifferent. If the things that aren’t under our control could be good or bad, then we’d be destined to suffer because of our inability to do something about them. All good must necessarily come from ourselves.

The indifferent things often get summarized as health, wealth, and reputation; but basically, everything external, everything that is not up to us, gets classified as indifferent. By indifferent, the Stoics mean that these events are neutral and can neither help nor harm our flourishing as human beings, they’re unimportant for the happy and smoothly flowing life. If we need those external things for the good life, that would be demoralizing for those lacking them. Therefore, we should learn to be indifferent toward indifferent things, and as discussed before, accept the rest as it happens instead of fighting with it. Remember, the Stoic archer is ready to take any outcome with equanimity, because it’s beyond their control.

The term indifference, however, is slightly misleading since it indicates that these things have no value at all. That’s not the case. Although these external things are irrelevant for the good life, some are preferred to others nonetheless. It makes intuitive sense to choose to be healthy rather than sick, rich rather than poor, and beautiful rather than ugly. Also, it’s clear that William Tell preferred to hit the apple rather than his son. These are called preferred indifferents. If we could choose, we’d always take the better options. And that’s the same for the Stoics, they seek those better options but do so in a detached manner. They’d rather have it but it’s okay if they don’t. And the highest priority remains living with areté, so they only seek those preferred indifferents as long as it doesn’t interfere with expressing their highest version.

Friendship is the most important preferred indifferent for the Stoics. Our human nature is not only rational but also social and, therefore, we’re naturally attracted to other people. And a good person always shows love, kindness, justice, and concern for his fellow human beings—for his brothers, neighbors, and strangers alike. Having wise and good friends is the most precious external thing in the world. As Seneca writes, the wise man “desires friends, neighbors, and associates, no matter how much he is sufficient unto himself.” We’re able to live a happy life without friends, but we prefer not to.

Unlike in Hollywood movies, however, the Stoics would never value love higher than moral integrity. Whenever virtue is involved, all else needs to give way. “Love conquers all” might be romantic and make good films, but it’s precisely the opposite of the Stoic priorities—not even love should be traded if the price is the compromising of your character. So go ahead and seek friendship, as long as it doesn’t need you to break with virtue. It’s better to endure loneliness, sickness, and poverty in an honorable manner than to seek friendship, health, and wealth in a shameful one. The good person will always pursue virtue and avoid vice at all costs.

It’s simply fabulous how Seneca explained it: “Good people will do what they find honorable to do, even if it requires hard work; they’ll do it even if it causes them injury; they’ll do it even if it will bring danger. Again, they won’t do what they find base, even if it brings wealth, pleasure, or power. Nothing will deter them from what is honorable, and nothing will lure them into what is base.”

In Poker as in Life, You Can Win with Any Hand

Poker explains this idea of good, bad, and indifferent things beautifully. The hands you’re dealt are different external circumstances and life situations: your flat screen TV, your mean boss, the illness of your wife, the bad grades of your son, and your encouraging best friend. These are the various hands you’re dealt and now have to play with. The hands are dealt by chance; you have no say in what you get. So the cards don’t matter, they’re neutral, indifferent. What matters is how well you play them.

In poker as in life, you can win with any hand. Sure, you prefer double ace and a healthy wife, but that’s not up to you. What’s up to you is what you do with the given situation. Once the hand has been dealt, you have no choice but accept what’s too late to change, and you wish no longer for a more preferable hand but for the strength to play it the best you can.

The hallmark of an admirable player, then, is that they play their best regardless of their cards and that they calmly accept whatever comes out. It’s all they can do—giving their best with whichever cards they’ve been dealt. In the end, not the player with the best cards, but the player who plays their cards the best over the course of the tournament, or the course of a whole lifetime, will win.

The best hand—great health, wealth, and fame—by itself cannot help a foolish and unjust person to attain the good life. And neither can the worst hand—sickness, poverty, and bad reputation—harm the virtuous person’s wellbeing. On a scale, virtue and a good character will always outweigh health, wealth, and reputation. No abundance of external goods will ever keep up with a person’s character. Some external goods might be preferable over others, but they’re ultimately indifferent; all that matters for the good life is how we play them.

To a good person, losing his whole estate is the same as losing one penny, and being sick is no worse than having stumbled, that’s what early Stoic Chrysippus supposedly said. Seneca eloquently expressed something similar, “Life is neither good nor bad; it is the space for both good and bad.” Life and all its various situations can be used wisely or foolishly, it’s our actions that make it good or bad. That’s important. Although external things are indifferent, how we handle them is not. It’s exactly the way of use of indifferent things that makes a happy or crappy life.

3. Take Responsibility: Get Good from Yourself

“If you want anything good, you must get it from yourself.” – Epictetus

The final corner of the Stoic Happiness Triangle is built upon the two others; they make this third corner possible. The first principle makes living with areté, or expressing your highest self, the highest good, whereas the second tells us that external circumstances are not important for the good life because they’re not under our control. That means areté alone is enough for the good life, and because it’s within our control, it makes us responsible for our own flourishing.

This is “the toughest and most appealing aspect of Stoicism,” as Donald Robertson puts it, because this responsibility deprives us of any excuses for not attaining the happy and smoothly flowing life we all aspire to. We’re the only ones stopping us from cultivating virtuous behavior, we’re the only ones stopping us from living the good life.

Living with areté is within our control

+ things outside our control are not relevant for the happy life

= living with areté is within our control + enough for the happy life.

This results in us being responsible for our own happy lives.

Let’s unravel this a bit more. The ultimate goal is eudaimonia—a happy and smoothly flowing life. In order to reach that goal, the Stoics defined another goal: Living with areté or living in accordance with nature. The human nature is to apply reason to our intentions and actions. So the goal to live with areté is to apply reason to our actions and always try to express our highest version of ourselves.

In modern terms, this is a process goal. The Stoics did not focus on the future outcome (a happy life) but on the process in the present moment (living with areté) that should ultimately lead to the wished outcome. This focus on the process is what makes us, as aspiring Stoics, ultimately responsible for our own flourishing because we’re in control of that process. While the outcome can be prevented by external events, the process and our intentions are completed in the present moment and cannot be prevented by anything outside our control.

As Seneca puts it, “The wise man looks to the purpose of all actions, not their consequences; beginnings are in our power but Fortune judges the outcome, and I do not grant her a verdict upon me.”

Stoicism teaches that we’re very much responsible for our own happiness as well as unhappiness. It also teaches that taking this responsibility will improve our chances of attaining eudaimonia. The victim mentality—blaming external circumstances for our unhappiness—on the other hand, will make the happy life an impossible goal to reach.

We must refuse to let the hands we’re dealt decide over our wellbeing. The Stoics say that outside events and other people may have the power to affect how and even whether you live, but they don’t have the power to ruin our lives. Only you yourself can ruin your life by getting jerked around by things you don’t control and by failing to act as well as you’re capable of.

We must make sure that our happiness depends as little as possible on outside circumstances. There should be only a loose connection between what happens to us and how happy we are. That’s possible by focusing on what we control and trying to make the best with the given circumstances. And also by wanting only what is within our power, because as learned earlier, desiring what’s not within our power is the root cause of emotional suffering.

“It is never possible to make happiness consistent with a longing after what is not present. For true happiness implies the possession of all which is desired, as in case of satiety with food; there must be no thirst, no hunger.” What Epictetus describes here is exactly what we today call conditional happiness—binding happiness to some future event. I’ll be happy after my exams. I’ll be happy when I get that new Porsche 911. I’ll be happy when I finally earn six figures. It’s like the horizon—you can walk for miles and miles but won’t get any closer. Either we keep on yearning for stuff we don’t have, or we actually have a chance for happiness. We can’t have both. True happiness is when you have all you desire.

“Externals are not in my power; will is in my power. Where shall I seek the good and the bad? Within, in the things which are my own. But in what does not belong to you call nothing either good or bad.” Epictetus reminds us here to seek the good within ourselves. He often uses the basic message, “If you want anything good, get it from yourself.” We must seek happiness within ourselves, not in external things; they’re not within our power, they’re neither good nor bad but indifferent.

Nature equipped us with the necessary tools to create a satisfactory and happy life no matter the hardships we face in life. So, if we want to gain contentment, we must change ourselves and our desires. We cannot change the things that happen in the world around us, we can only change the way we look at those things and what we choose to make out of them.

Changing outside events is impossible.

Changing your view about those events is possible.

So why not try to change what’s possible?

The Freedom of Choice

“There are three things in your composition: body, breath, and mind,” Marcus Aurelius reminds himself. “The first two are yours to the extent that you must take care for them, but only the third is in the full sense your own.” Only the mind is truly yours. Only the mind is within the Stoic circle of control. All else is not or only partially within our control.

As discussed earlier, our actions are within our power, but not their outcomes. Fortunately, Epictetus says, “the most excellent and superior faculty”—our ability to use reason—was also placed within our power, so that we can make “the right use of the appearances of things.” Even if we’re “only” given control over our mind, this leaves us with plenty of power—the ability to decide what outside events will mean to us. Judgment, then, becomes the heart of our being of rational creatures, and the source of our freedom.

We don’t control what happens in the world around us, but we do have the power to control our opinions about these events. “We cannot choose our external circumstances, but we can always choose how we respond to them,” as Epictetus tells us. We must realize that external events are neutral, and only how we choose to react to them makes them good or bad.

Either we’re a victim to our circumstances and get jerked around like our voodoo doll, or we choose to stand responsible for how we handle the circumstances, and make sure we don’t let ourselves jerk around. Being a helpless victim is never helpful. Taking responsibility, on the other hand, gives us the power to make the best with the given circumstances.

Every outside event, then, offers an area of our own control, namely what we make with that event. This is a true and fair amount of control, stemming from our ability to judge events as we choose to. Being able to choose means we have a choice, and having a choice means freedom. Let’s call this the freedom of choice, inspired by Viktor Frankl, who says in his book A Man’s Search for Meaning, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing; the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

Something happens (stimulus) and then we react to it (response). Oftentimes, this response happens automatically, unconsciously, and without us thinking about it. We can easily observe this behavior in other people—something happens and they react impulsively. In kids, that’s even more distinct. Let’s say young Boy is playing with his brontosaur Bronty, and then you take it away. What happens? Chances are high that Boy will immediately start crying. Boy doesn’t think about his reaction, it will come automatically. Maybe he’ll stare at you in disbelief before he’ll start laughing. Who knows? Now, Boy and other young kids don’t have the power to choose a response. But for you and me, it’s different. Potentially, there’s a small gap between stimulus and response. The power lies in that gap. The freedom of choice lies in that gap.

The gap means that we have the chance to step in between stimulus and response and choose our voluntary reaction (or non-reaction). The gap is only a potential gap because if we’re not aware enough, there will be no gap, and we will mindlessly go with the default (or auto-) response. Awareness, mindfulness, or attention as the Stoics call it, is necessary for you to be able to step in between stimulus and response. Depending on your awareness, the gap becomes bigger or smaller or even nonexistent.

The point is, when something happens to you—you break a glass, step into dog shit, or get shown the middle finger by a stranger—you could enter the gap before you react automatically. Once you’re in the gap, you can think about your options, and then choose your best reaction. Most people will reactively go with their default response, and only later (or not at all) realize that their reaction was inappropriate.

When you step into dog shit, it’s plausible that some reaction follows automatically. Something inside you decides that the situation is really bad; what follows are feelings of anger, annoyance, and panic, accompanied by swear words and hectic body movements. Now this might not seem too bad, but what happens is that you get jerked around by an outside event that you can’t change anymore. You let an outside circumstance determine how you feel. If we generally go with our default reactions, we’ll always be dependent on what happens around us; stepping into dog shit makes us miserable, stepping on a $10 bill makes us happy. We’re at the mercy of the situation, if our default reaction to the situation is positive, then hurray, if not, then waah. That is throwing our voodoo doll out in the streets all over again. Fortunately, it doesn’t need to be that way.

The Stoics argue that you can step in between what happens (dog shit), and your reaction to it (anger and f-words). The idea is to choose your best virtuous response rather than going with the default. In order to do that, you need to be able to spot your automatic impression (it’s really bad) in the first place. If you want to get in the gap and choose your response, you need the awareness to spot the first impression that arises in the form of thoughts and/or emotions. Once you see this first impression, you can step back, and question whether this impression is good to go with or not. You can look at this thought impression as a mere hypothesis up for debate before you examine it rationally.

Basically, you withhold the approval of that impression and avoid rash, impulsive, and automatic behavior. This is immensely powerful and enables you to think before you (re-)act. It gives you the power to choose the best possible reaction, and what happens in the world around you doesn’t matter so much anymore. It hands you the key to your ideal behavior as you can choose to act in a wise, serene, and forgiving way—smile, clean the shoe, and move on with your life.

The freedom of choice, or how the Stoics call it, reasoned choice, is really about actively choosing our response rather than reactively going with the default response. In order to be able to do that, we need to bring awareness into the situation so we can spot our first impression and avoid getting carried away by it and respond reactively. The reactive response could be unvirtuous behavior and cause further unhealthy emotions such as anger, fear, or desire. Instead, if we’re able to step back from the initial impression, we can evaluate that impression rationally, look at other possible responses, and then choose our best reaction or non-reaction (sometimes it’s best to not react at all). That way we respond how we choose to, hopefully in accordance with virtue.

The Mind Makes You Rich, Even in Exile

How did the Stoics react to adversity? Three of our four protagonists had been exiled at least once. They took it in exemplary Stoic manner. Seneca said, “It is the mind that makes us rich; this goes with us into exile.” Musonius Rufus, who was exiled to the worst of all places, Gyara, said that exile deprived him of his country but not of his ability to endure exile. He even said that exile doesn’t deprive a person of anything of value—virtue cannot be taken away. Exile doesn’t prevent you from being courageous and just. We must keep in mind that happiness depends more on what we make of what happens rather than what happens in the first place. No matter what happens to you, your mind is always available to turn it into good fortune by responding with virtue.

The Stoic Sage, and apparently also the main philosophers, are absolutely free even in exile. Because their freedom consists in being able to follow their reasonable nature, which is to focus on what you control, take the rest as it happens, and respond with virtue. Every obstacle becomes an opportunity to practice wisdom, courage, justice, and self-discipline. The ideal Stoic only wants to respond to whatever happens in harmony with reason and his highest self, and nothing can prevent him from doing that. He only desires what’s within his control, and therefore he remains “free” even in exile or prison.

Stoicism challenges you to change yourself whenever you can’t change the situation. Even if you can’t change the situation, you have the power to change your attitude about it and respond with virtue. No matter where you are (prison or palace), and no matter what challenge you’re facing (dog shit or $10 bill), your freedom of choice will always be available to you; you just need to spot your first impression, avoid shitting a brick, take a step back instead, evaluate the situation, and choose your wisest response. External events are not what matters, but what you choose to do with them.

We must recognize the fact that we’re response-able to choose how to respond to situations. Viktor Frankl, the legend who came up with the freedom of choice, went through the most brutal experiences we can imagine. He lost his whole family and barely survived the horrors of the Nazi concentration camps of World War II. Despite those horrors, he was still able to choose his attitude and he chose to not give in to those terrible situations. Sure, we’ve all experienced many bad things in our lives, but most certainly not as barbarous as losing our entire family and going through concentration camps. The point is, if Frankl was able to choose his response in the midst of unspeakable terror, then we should be able to choose our responses too. (Speaking of Viktor Frankl, if you haven’t already, make sure to read his book A Man’s Search for Meaning.)

Attention: Although Stoic philosophers say we can step in between stimulus and response, they admit that there are automatic reactions we don’t control. These are reflex-like emotional reactions to some impressions such as blushing, sweating, tension, tears, or startling. We have no choice but accept these rapid bodily reactions. A sudden noise can shock you without you having a say in it. However, if we bring enough awareness into the situation, we can spot our impression, step back, and avoid getting carried away by it. Even if you don’t control these immediate reflexive reactions, you have the power to control what comes next: go along with the impression or step back, evaluate the situation, and choose a response consistent with your values.

Disturbed or Invincible: That’s Up to You

“Men are disturbed not by the things which happen, but by the opinions about the things.” Epictetus’ words are an important take-away from what we’ve just learned: External events are not within our power but they offer an area we control; we have the power to choose what these events mean to us, and it’s our choices that matter, not the events. External events basically carry no meaning at all, it’s how we perceive them, it’s our judgments that give them meaning and make them seem good or bad.

(By the way, this is far from easy to realize as long as people respond impulsively and therefore mindlessly to events, because it seems obvious to them that the event causes their unhappiness. As soon as they get better at stepping back from their initial impressions, they’ll see that what upsets them is their very own judgment about the situation.)

The first lesson, then, is to never blame other people or outside events for whatever negative emotions we’re feeling. Take responsibility. For the Stoics, it’s clear that not events, but our opinions about those events are the cause of a troubled mind. This might show as suffering and unhappiness and arises when we believe the stories we tell ourselves. An impression comes as a thought into our heads and we accept it as the truth. “I’m in exile, this is terrible.” The situation itself (exile) does not make us unhappy, it may cause physical pain in certain situations, but it’s the story about the situation (it’s terrible) that causes the trouble. Your judgments in form of thoughts, opinions, and interpretations make you unhappy. Good or bad can only be found in your judgments and actions, not in external events.

The troubled mind comes from judging an event as undesirable or bad, often in the form of complaining. We give an event value by judging it as terrible for example, and forget that the event itself is neither good nor bad; it is empty and carries no meaning at all. We give it the meaning by judging, resenting, and wanting it to be different. This causes the emotional suffering. If you could let it be as it is, if you were able not to judge it good or bad but take it as it is (neutral, indifferent), then you wouldn’t have a troubled mind. You are free of suffering, says Epictetus, if you don’t care for the things which are not in your power.

Duh, I’m so clumsy. Vs. The glass is broken.

This is the worst day of my life! Vs. There’s dog shit on my shoe sole. It smells.

Argh, such a jerk! I hate this guy. Vs. He erected the middle finger in my direction.

The events themselves carry no meaning. It’s our judgments that make them either good or bad. I like how Ellie Goulding sings in her song First Time, “The middle finger was our peace sign.” When you think about it this way, “Argh, such a jerk!” can easily become a smile and, “Aww, such a sweetie.” The exact same event can be interpreted in so many different ways and arouse complete opposite feelings.

Look, I know you’re not stupid and know very well what the other person is trying to tell you; the point is, it doesn’t matter what he’s trying to tell you, what matters is what you make out of it. So even if it seems (or it’s obvious) that someone is trying to insult you, it’s your judgment that provokes you. You cannot be harmed unless you let it, because the other person has no access to your mind. “Otherwise,” Marcus Aurelius says, “my neighbor’s wickedness would be my own harm: and this was not in god’s intention, to leave my misfortune up to another.” Only you yourself have access to your mind, and only you can ruin your life. You’re responsible.

Someone can’t frustrate you, dog shit can’t make you depressed—these are external events that have no access to your mind. Those emotions you feel, as real as they are, don’t come from the outside, but from the inside. You generate those emotions, you generate your pain. A broken glass is a broken glass. It’s your judgment (“Duh, I’m so clumsy”) that makes you feel like a loser. Don’t blame the event, blame your reactive self for feeling how you feel. The cause lies in your judgment. “Remove the judgment,” Marcus says, “and the hurt itself is removed.” Don’t judge the event, and you won’t get harmed. Your reaction, then, basically shows whether you’ve been harmed or not. When you break a glass, you have two options: Get hurt, or don’t get hurt.

“Duh, I’m so clumsy” + start crying and feel miserable = strong reaction, getting hurt.

“Oops” + clean up and move on with your life = no reaction, not getting hurt.

This gives you plenty of power, because it means you cannot get upset by anything outside your control. Only your judgment can harm you. No matter what uncontrollable challenges you’re facing in life, you have the power to decide what these events mean to you, only you have the freedom to choose your best reaction. Your reaction will either delight or harm you.

That’s why Epictetus advises to always have two rules ready at mind: (1) there is nothing good or bad unless we choose to make it so, and (2) we shouldn’t try to lead events but follow them. Resistance is futile, take things as they come, and make the best of what’s in your power.