“Attitude is everything, take a good one where you go,
It’s up to you to keep a happy mood--
And everything depends upon your attitude!”
These are the lyrics of a song my older daughter learned in first grade and performed for parents and other kids. I loved it! Countless times I have sung this song to my two daughters when they were small, and I was just reminded of it again during the current coronavirus pandemic. Though the song is a bit over the top in its cheerfulness, the message rings true: Everything depends upon your attitude, especially in times of crisis.
When I first heard this song, it was shortly before I began my journey into Stoicism. At the time I was investigating psychology and mindfulness. I was learning self-awareness, but there was still something missing. And for me, what was lacking was the sense of balance and reason within, and the courage to take charge of my own responses to a world that often felt cruel and unfair.
I have experienced that sinking sense of the world’s cruelty since I was very young, when my dad first became sick. A kind, intelligent, and loving person, accomplished as a mathematician, Dad was in and out of medical care for years as I grew up. He died much too soon. It was a terrible thing to realize that I had no control over what happened to someone I cared about so deeply.
That creeping sense of the insecurity of life is back now with the coronavirus. The virus has actively spread in my Northern California county, where residents and visitors come from all over the world to work at/with Silicon Valley tech companies.
The heavily trafficked freeways have now gone largely quiet as a “shelter-in-place” order covers our region. My colleagues from work are holed up in their own remote locations, trying to limit any contact with the wider world. (It reminds me of people in Cold War bomb shelters… or under house arrest.) East Coast relatives are also staying home whenever possible, and temperatures are now being taken to enter grocery stores and offices.
I’ve heard from friends in France dealing with massive lockdowns, rarely able to leave their apartments. The stories coming out of Italy right now, where we have colleagues, are sad and shocking. China seems to be improving but is far from back to normal; a coworker from there says that in the US, we are about two months or so behind that country in dealing with this.
And I just heard about a college classmate in New York, a healthy marathon runner in his mid-forties, now sedated and placed on a ventilator. He is struggling to recover from Covid-19.
Every day brings fresh insults—new tidbits of information that, taken in a certain way, can be very traumatizing. If you’re an admitted news junkie like me, you find yourself obsessively scrolling though stories about how the virus is affecting every aspect of life in every corner of the world. And that’s just too much information for one brain to handle.
How do we determine what a reasonable risk may be in these circumstances? It may feel as if our sense of reason is askew or even broken at times. Who is to know what’s paranoid under these circumstances? Friends of mine won’t see foot outside their homes. Several have told me about elder relatives who insist on shopping, whom they are begging to stop going to Walgreens.
Our kids are another issue. How to help them depends on their ages, personalities, and school circumstances. It’s a time of crisis. How much do we direct our children to do in this time, to prompt them to continue their school work remotely, in some cases without a teacher or classmates to guide them? I read an opinion piece the other day written by a mom who refused to run a “homeschool" for her third graders. She allowed them to play and watch movies. I get it! Kids need downtime and can use the break, especially if they are surrounded stress.
But what if you have older students nearing high school, or ones already in high school—students who want to be sure to fulfill graduation requirements, and apply to college someday? That’s the situation I find myself in. I’m working to support my kids’ learning, while still working remotely for my full-time job.
As one of my coworkers pointed out, this is a difficult time because of the high uncertainty and the lack of control we are experiencing. For those very reasons, it is the right time to practice our philosophy.
Aside from the hygiene, distancing, and protective practices that can help isolate the disease, and aside from working to support our families, all we can really manage are our own attitudes.
So how do we keep it all in balance? It’s not easy, and a daily emotional roller-coaster is very normal, even as an aspiring Stoic (after all, I’m not a sage!). But I am seeking to approach this rationally as best I can, and to use strategies based on a Stoic-inspired life. To keep my attitude in reasonably good shape, I have a three-fold plan:
And one more note: Please don’t hesitate to write back about how you are coping, and any advice you have during this difficult time, or to share it on social media forums or posts. Our virtual community can be a great help to those working to live out this philosophy right now!
My husband and I like to tell our kids stories about times when things didn’t work out quite as well as we had hoped—in a funny way. Looking back, we realize that we could have made a better choice. But because the consequences were pretty minor, or even silly, these tales are entertaining rather than painful. They might just teach something along the way.
A favorite one we harken back to happened early in our relationship, when my husband picked out a “romantic” bed and breakfast inn from a small ad on the still-young Internet, located a stone’s throw away from a national park we wanted to visit. We were excited as we drove up late at night to a large house, finally arriving after facing a ton of traffic and a longer-than-expected drive.
We were soon confronted, however, with the reality that the place was far from romantic. We were ushered inside to a heavily decorated room in the basement of an older couple’s home, complete with a “Big Mouth Billy Bass” singing fish affixed to the wall, and a noisy laundry station right outside the room’s door. Clearly the wife’s “fun” retirement project, the bedroom was filled with mismatched chintz.
The mistress of the house, irked at having to wait up late for us, had just one burning question: Would we like eggs and sausage or waffles and fruit for breakfast in the morning?
The next day we were greeted by her in the kitchen while her husband, in a gray undershirt and little else, sat nearby watching TV, his bare feet and unclipped toenails propped up on an ottoman in full view as we tried to eat…. clearly intent on ignoring the intruders in his house.
We headed into the park and took a hike that inadvertently lasted well into the dark as we rushed to find our way back without flashlights. Our stay was topped off by my husband’s scary hypothermia that evening.
These kinds of tales are called “Epic Fail" stories by our daughters, who often try to run from the room instead of hearing them. They find them cringe-worthy. But the “fail” is actually the point. It’s a way of examining what we’ve done well and not so well, figuring out how we could do better, and teaching them some things to avoid too. My husband especially enjoys sharing these, and to me, they’re pretty funny, even on repetition. (I try to restrain myself from giving away the ending!)
The story above, for example, contains a lot of valuable lessons. Don’t buy a singing bass fish and hang it up to decorate your new basement B&B. Another: Don’t book a room—or, much more importantly, don’t go to a school or accept a job or travel to a faraway destination—on the basis of a small, cute ad you find quickly online. Do your research!
It’s a valuable takeaway: You need to do due diligence in life. And if you do, and you still find you're stuck in a basement listening to a fish singing "Don't Worry, Be Happy," do your best to laugh at it.
Also: Don’t plan an 8+ mile summer hike in the mid-afternoon without quick-dry clothing or flashlights. (We have since become big fans of synthetic athletic shirts, and of starting early.)
Time and experience have taught us many life lessons, and we try to share those with our children. Stories are an ideal way to do that, since they are memorable and relatable. With the distance of a few years, what was really frustrating at the time now seems funny.
And the act of framing what happened to us, and our role in shaping it, is best done at a distance—looking back from a safe perch to see the full context. It's a good way to sneak in a little teaching with kids of any age... and even to remind ourselves of what to do differently next time.
Socrates is famously quoted as saying, “the greatest good is daily to converse about virtue,” and “the unexamined life is not worth living” (Plato’s Apology). We humans do need to talk, to share our stories, to probe all our experiences and our thoughts—to understand the choices we have made and the personal tendencies and real-life situations that pull us away from virtue. We do need to examine who we are, and what we do, on a regular basis, in order to improve our understanding and our choices. (For an interesting take on these quotes, see this Vermont Philosophy blog post.)
And, within reason, it is beneficial to share this practice with our children. Children, especially as they get older, need to learn how to fail, and how to get back up again after a reversal. Also, since our culture often misinforms them about what they should value and how they should behave in a tough situation, hearing a parent or trusted adult rationally review a mistake or even a difficult misfortune can teach them something, too.
It's helpful to review our actions for ourselves, either in writing or in our personal thoughts. Ancient Stoics looked back to Pythagoras’ Golden Verses, where he advocated reviewing our own behavior daily:
“Never allow sleep to close your eyelids, after you went to bed,
Until you have examined all your actions of the day by your reason.
In what have I done wrong? What have I done? What have I omitted that I ought to have done?
If in this examination you find that you have done wrong, reprove yourself severely for it;
And if you have done any good, rejoice.”
It’s a practice I do in a sideways way, sifting through what’s on my mind through writing about my thoughts and challenges, especially by blogging. I also like jotting down a few lines of verse here and there in the evening, sometimes transforming a painful experience into a lyrical moment.
This all reminds me of a favorite possession in my family. When I went to Universal Studios’ Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park several years ago, I got a baseball cap as a souvenir. The hat said “Seeker”—Harry’s position in the game of Quidditch. But for me, it held a deeper meaning. I’m constantly seeking to understand where we derive our value and moral worth, how we can examine and refine our intentions, and the way we live our lives. How we can be in harmony with our world, but also strive to bring good to our relationships and our communities. How to see things clearly in a world where emotional appeals (backed by cash) are used to constantly sell us products or even political candidates.
How to cut through the noise? By seeking the truth and pursuing the virtues in our daily engagements, and by recalling our “fails” and our successes through stories. Life is messy, and that's why this process will take all of our days. But that is what being human is all about.
I’ve since given the hat to my younger daughter, passing on this bit of wisdom.
The girl was dressed for a princess party, in a red flouncy gown. She and her family swept into the theater a few seconds into the musical opening of the first act of the performance I was attending with my family. About 5 years old, the girl, seated directly behind us, immediately started talking at full volume as the singing began. I think she was asking for a complete translation and explanation of the plot, characters, and songs. The sound of her and her family’s voices responding to her carried to the dozens of people seated around them in the large theater—each of whom had paid handsomely for a big night out to see this touring production.
Although this girl and her parents seemed to think that they were going to a princess show, in fact, the performance we were seeing was the musical Wicked. It is a re-telling of the backstory of the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz book and movie. She's mysteriously born green in a world that does not like "her kind," and she experiences hatred on an epic level. The plot focuses on what it means to be good, evil, and the whole range in-between, featuring infidelity, birth defects, parental emotional abuse, bullying, murder, discrimination, torture, friendship made and broken, popularity, teen love, betrayal, evil magic, deception, and more. Not exactly right for young kids.
All the people seated around this family said “shhhhh” with no real impact. Eventually, after the first hour, the full-volume talking became loud whispering, and then crunchy eating. Oh, and there was also the moment when they also seemed to laugh and joke about not making space for a smiling young woman to pass by them to get to her assigned spot, and their teen son constantly kicking my husband’s seat. Hmmmmm…
That’s certainly not an isolated reminder of people’s everyday lack of consideration for their fellow humans. Recently we took a family trip to Disneyland, and we all experienced encountering folks who didn’t show much respect for other people. The mothers looking down at phones or maps while pushing strollers right into oncoming pedestrians, and the motorized scooters that nearly took my toes off in a busy walkway. The woman in a crowd who jostled and called my 13-year-old daughter the “b” word (seriously?). The boy sitting next to me in a ride, who raised the middle finger at the Disney camera as it snapped a photo of us, earning him a big black spot over his hand in the final image. The young girl, around 8, glued to an iPad who refused to move over 5 inches to let my mom share her shady bench on a very hot afternoon, despite her own grandmother’s admonitions. Mature adults shoving over other people to capture photos, or angle their way ahead in line.
All this got me thinking. And then something popped up in my Facebook feed: In a Stoic parenting group, Brittany Polat asked this question:
Are you making the world better by being a Stoic parent? Seneca says, “It is not only the person who presents candidates for office and defends the accused, and gives his judgments on war and peace, who benefits the state; instead, whoever encourages the young; whoever, given the great scarcity of good instruction, instills virtue in minds... this person is doing public business in a private role.” (On Tranquility of Mind, 3.3) What do you think—are we helping not only our own families but also society when we teach our kids about virtue?
Though I may not be able to have an impact on whole swaths of society—or even on the inconsiderate people sitting right next to me—I still think I can make a difference as a Stoic mom. At the very least, I can have an influence on my children and on the other children I teach, lead, or mentor, and I can amplify that by volunteering.
I work with Girl Scouts and have also done other kinds of teaching in the schools with an anti-bullying program. Those two organizations work to instill virtues around honesty, fairness, compassion, courage, self-control, so I view them as in line with my life philosophy. (Check out the Girl Scout promise and law, and you can see for yourself how you think it relates to Stoic ideas or your own ethics.) My daughter worked with other scouts this year to complete a project designed to teach younger kids about pedestrian safety around cars, hoping to influence their community in a positive way. Their video was shared by our city's police and public safety departments, spreading the message much farther than they and their parents alone could do.
I think these organizations are influencing kids’ lives, and I can see clearly that the anti-bullying educational program launched by the YMCA, Project Cornerstone, has positively affected the thinking of local students. I have heard the kids walking out of class or hanging out on the playground using the language they learned in Project Cornerstone, such as “don’t take the bait” (don’t let a taunt get to you, and don’t respond on the same level) or “I was an Upstander today” (I helped another person who was being bullied or disrespected, by standing up for that person or helping somehow).
Kids aren’t born understanding/practicing the virtues, and we all (adults too) have a lot to learn. As the ancients pointed out, this is an ongoing process throughout our lives. In Girl Scouts events, for example, I’ve noticed some kids pair up, and other girls can feel left out. Parents can’t control this, as volunteers or as moms and dads. But we can continuously work on building a community of respect, fairness, caring, and mutual support in many other ways as kids work on service projects for their local neighborhoods, and as they learn about how to lead and project-manager towards larger goals outside of themselves.
So my thought is that if working with your own kids isn't completely overwhelming and draining (especially as they get older), and you have a bit of time, check into what other groups you can contribute to. Any groups or programs that teach and share basic messages about self-control, managing our wants and desires vs. others’, and being considerate human beings in society would be beneficial, since they focus on important elements of character that have an impact on other people.
When it comes to inconsiderate parents and/or children affecting others' experiences in very public places where we share the space—places where I am with my own children and trying to be a good influence on them—I often stop to think about how this behavior creates new generations of folks who don't respect others' common humanity.
We can’t solve the world’s problems by ourselves, and we can never force others to behave how we want them to (a bedrock Stoic principle). Of course I sometimes think about how great it would be if I could do more to influence those around me, and there are days when I despair of the direction our whole society is going. It can be tough and isolating to keep teaching the value of good character and of social service in a selfish era, when so many focus only on "I, me, mine"... It reminds me a little of the uphill battle that the Wicked Witch experienced in the show we saw, as she tried to help others and make the world better in her own way, while ultimately being labelled "wicked."
In fact, as a Stoic parent, you may feel isolated and misunderstood, much like the witch in Broadway's Wicked. These challenges are no reason to give up. It is valuable to keep working towards greater civility, respect for others, self-control, honesty, justice, and human wisdom within our spheres of influence, and to attempt to expand those spheres as much as possible… however our circumstances allow.
How about you? Do you have any suggestions for how to make a difference? Let’s brainstorm about how living our life philosophy, and sharing it with others, can contribute to our world.
Stoic life philosophy and others’ judgments
In the series Black Mirror, there’s an infamous episode where the main character is judged for her actions minute-to-minute by her peers, gaining and losing points via a social media-style app. A cascade of missteps, largely outside of her control, results in a lower score—and, as a result, a disturbing downgrade in her real life. The episode is called Nosedive, and it’s terrifying. (But apparently not so scary to those who turned it into a "fun" game sold at Target!)
This sounds like a futuristic nightmare. But it’s already happening in some countries. Artificial intelligence is quickly combining with facial recognition, social media, and crowdsourcing to become tools of social control.
I find this situation of great concern as a human being—and also as a follower of Stoic practices. It makes me wonder: No matter what scary impositions technology enables, how can we, as individuals, effectively cope with others’ judgments?
Ancient Stoics, with Epictetus the strongest voice among them, teach us that we have no control over what other people think or do, and therefore should ignore others’ opinions. In day-to-day life, this is hard. People’s judgments happen everywhere, all the time, and they can affect our lives in real ways. Others’ opinions cost us jobs, school admittances, relationships, and more.
At times, I’ve found myself swimming in a sea of criticism, and it’s toxic. As a student and a young professional, I would slave over projects trying to perfect them and protect them from criticism, trying so hard to please that my own unique imprint got lost. (In that way, worries about others’ judgments actually kept me from doing my best work.) I wanted my efforts and my external persona to be bulletproof. This tendency among girls, in particular, has been highlighted in recent media stories that try to explain why girls' high achievement in school does not always translate into success in the workplace: perfectionism is the enemy of more lasting, real-world accomplishment.
But critiques of my work (and of me!) inevitably happened, and though I tried to maintain a brave face, I was crushed inside. That was before I accepted that I couldn’t control or change others’ reactions, and that I could still live a good life no matter what they thought. Before I began practicing a Stoic life philosophy.
Now, as I have developed a more self-reliant idea about my own value and core principles, I’ve come to see interactions with others as a dance with an often-unreliable partner.
The ancients knew this. That’s the source of all the language about being able to “bear” other people. Marcus Aurelius had to do this as emperor, and I think he spoke most eloquently about what needs to be done: As humans, we are built to work together in society, so we have to balance our wishes and drives with those of others. That means we must put up with people who are separated from reason and their ruling center.
So we have to learn this dance. Even if our feet are often stepped on, bringing involuntary tears to our eyes.
This is a lifelong project. We can interact with our coworkers, gathering input, without letting their agendas penetrate too deeply into our ruling centers. We can learn from mentors, without being controlled by their point of view—asking ourselves, like Socrates, “Is it true?” We can share what we create, and hope that others, through our common humanity, will respond to the work as intended or will offer ideas to inform us—but we can’t expect this to happen. We can be close with family, yet still follow our own paths.
We could learn to view our work, and our relationships, not as finished, polished, perfect things, but as living entities, like trees in the forest, always expanding and shifting. That way, everything is a work in progress, like our own moral development, where there’s always room for growth ...that is, until we somehow become Stoic sages.
I’ve found I make more progress on this when I heed the advice of my daughters’ teachers, who inculcate a “growth mindset.” The crux of it: You don’t know everything to begin with, and you learn through making mistakes. Mistakes are “expected, respected, inspected, and corrected,” says a classroom poster. The teacher reminds them: Your work won’t be perfect. If you’ve developed a new skill, you’ve won. (This is NOT how I was taught in school, where perfection was expected and the rest was disrespected.)
Where does that leave our “score”—in other words, how we are assessed by others?
The hard truth is that we must learn to ignore it and endure the consequences. As I feel myself being judged by peers or colleagues, I tell myself: This is yet another opportunity to exercise my core principles and hope that my truth will win out. After all, a good social or professional rank is not essential, but rather a preferred indifferent in a self-reliant life lived according to the virtues.
Last weekend, 11 people were killed by a hate-filled shooter at a synagogue in Pittsburgh. The news devastated far more than one community. People across the country and world were filled with horror and disbelief.
There are many ways to become unmoored in modern America. Every day, people are alienated from family, friends, workplaces, communities. And in their quest to connect somehow with other human beings, their minds are twisted into a victim mentality fueled by hate.
Hatred makes people feel powerful. In our society, people are being constantly told they are powerless victims (of conspiracies, of immigrants, of other religious, ethnic, or racial groups, of women's rights and Me Too, and more), and in the public arena, limitless power is craved, praised, and ruthlessly pursued, no matter the means or the cost. Combined, these things motivate people's horrific actions against other human beings. And with easy access to weapons, they can do massive harm.
Stoic thinkers spoke of a very different approach, centered around actively practicing justice, wisdom, courage, compassion, and self-control. All of these things are lacking in a meaningful way from our public discourse, especially the rhetoric of those currently in power.
I personally hope to live by those virtues. It is a lifelong effort, and not easy. I’m reminded of Epictetus’ quote about the “real good or evil” of human beings. He was asked if there is a difference between a human and an animal, such as a stork. “Yes, surely,” he responds. "How so?" he is asked. He says:
See whether it be not in rationality of action, in social instincts, fidelity, honor, providence, judgment.
"Where, then, is the real good or evil of human beings?"
Just where this difference lies. If this distinguishing trait is preserved, and remains well fortified, and neither honor, fidelity, nor judgment is destroyed, then he himself is likewise saved; but when any one of these is lost or demolished, he himself is lost also.
-Epictetus, Discourses, 1.28 (in a historic translation)
Those virtues and practices define humanity. We must work to “preserve” them always, even when it feels more appealing to give in to the latest conspiracy theory. There’s a beauty in those lies, of course—they feed on people's worse fears, confirming our anxieties, and they make us feel better about ourselves. But we must cultivate courage, refusing the psychologically-easy fix that extremists proffer to make some people feel superior to other people…. and the slippery slope of falsehoods that they are built on.
Stoic philosophy demonstrates distinct ways that you can shift your way of thinking. You can say no to sellers of hate or discord. You can refuse to participate in name calling or in demonizing people who are different. You can choose to value other people, no matter their background, as members of the human family.
Just as important: In Stoicism, you are never a victim. That’s one of its greatest appeals. If you adopt this life philosophy, as long as you have breath left in your body you can be a virtuous person pursuing and growing the good and a role model for others. In so doing, you are a part of forces for good throughout our world. That is especially important during dark times.
Even people who are victims of crime or persecution or disease (or in ancient times, banishment or political execution) have used Stoic thinking to endure and to fight and to stand for what’s right. They do not let being victim define them.
Instead they use their freedom of thought and judgment to take back power from people who try to insult, harm, or even kill them. Consider Socrates, Seneca, or Cato in ancient Greek and Roman times. In modern times, one might think of Nelson Mandela, Ghandi, Martin Luther King Jr., or Rosa Parks.
Even closer to home, we can find the power within ourselves to cope with daily trouble large and small. Take the example of a recent post on the Facebook Stoicism group. A woman described how she used Stoic ideas to help her endure longterm physical illness and disability. She found the strength to keep going, to say "this doesn't define me."
Sometimes hate starts almost imperceptibly. Prejudiced "dog whistles" can have an impact. But people who aren’t conditioned to feel like victims, constantly under threat by "the other," are much less likely to respond to such calls for bias, racism, and anti-Semitism. They know better. They know their own inner freedom. They live their own power, exemplifying what’s best about humanity.
I repeat: All the best elements in us—justice, wisdom, courage, compassion, self-control—are lacking in a meaningful way from the rhetoric of those currently in charge of our nation. I strive to live by those virtues, to teach them to my children, and to express them through writing, speaking out, teaching (as a volunteer), parenting, and voting. We must find a way to turn people away from hatred-based beliefs, actions, and power-seeking through violence. And we must remain rooted in the good.
“If you can find anything in human life better than justice, truthfulness, self-control, courage... turn to it with all your heart... but if you find all other things to be trivial and valueless in comparison with virtue, give no room to anything else.”
- Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations
The oddest thing happened when I first met Dominique. She is an experienced instructor in the Alexander Technique—a healthy way of using the body that I had come to her to learn. As she began giving me directions about my movements, she noticed I kept saying “I will try.”
Dominique asked me to “stop trying.”
Simply trying, she pointed out, wouldn’t enable me to accomplish my goals of learning better body use and gaining a stronger, more flexible spinal column. It wouldn't help me stand, walk, or run. It wouldn't energize my movements.
All my life I have said this. “I will try” has kept me going when I had lots of doubts. For that, I'm thankful.
But it’s also a crutch, a protective mechanism, in a way. The word “try” is closely allied with “I might fail.” It implies, “perhaps I can’t do this.” It evinces anxiety. And it also suggests that a ton of effort will be needed to force myself to do what’s hard.
These thoughts have gotten me in trouble many times as I scolded myself for being a failure, not living up to my imagined potential, not being the person I dreamed about becoming.
In the Alexander Technique, we learn to direct our bodies to use involuntary muscles, focusing our thoughts on a few key intentions: freeing the neck, keeping the head forward and up, lengthening and widening the back, separating shoulders from each other.
Rather than “trying” to force my body into “good posture” or a straightened, upright position, this technique encourages me to imagine how my body could be if it were always ready to jump, like a spring. It enables me to break old habits of movement and posture, habits of slumping through life. Instead, I am focused on awareness of simple core principles. It's led to a revitalized use of my body.
One of the biggest challenges in re-thinking movement is what F.M. Alexander, the technique's founder, called "end-gaining." That's where we work to obtain a goal no matter the means, losing sight of all else. This attitude results in abuse of our bodies. Just one example: hunched over our computers or phones, we're constantly bending our bodies to our tools rather than using them in the way nature intended. Then we experience spinal compression, muscle overextension, and pain.
"The difficulty for all of us is to take up a new way of life in which we must apply principles, instead of the haphazard end-gaining methods of the past," Alexander said.
I believe this kind of change is possible for our souls—our ruling centers, in the Stoic sense—too.
It is not easy. For years, I “tried” to improve myself. While this project encompassed many activities, from the artistic to the educational to the psychological, much of my effort and "trying" focused on writing. I knew I had skills, but I struggled to put them to use, to reach people, to fulfill my idea of what my writing “should” be if I just tried hard enough.
Each time I attempted to force my pen to write simply in order to succeed in showcasing my talents and gaining recognition, it fell flat. I wasn’t happy with the results. And I got frustrated. My writing didn't seem to touch anyone. Why wasn’t all my trying working?
I became subtly angry at my shortcomings, and at the world for failing to fulfill my ambitions. And as I did so, I got further and further from understanding and protecting my ruling center... and I distanced myself from my true strengths. I was doing everything for the sake of an audience that was either absent or just didn’t care.
It was when I reached inside to find what truly mattered to me that my work became meaningful to me. And that, too, is when readers started to tell me that they had learned something, or that they had achieved an insight into their own struggles after reading something I shared.
There's a lot to learn here, though it's not so easy to see in our competition-driven culture. We have become accustomed to trying to dazzle others with our achievements and talents.
Both Stoic philosophy and the Alexander Technique encourage those who practice them to adopt simple core principles, from which all else flows. These basic ideas resonate universally.
In my current Stoic practice, I have been turning back to the key virtues: wisdom, justice, courage, temperance. Those are the basic ideals to live by, the crux of the work of Stoicism. For me, it is a lifelong process to live a good life (and I think ancient philosophers would agree). There is no Stoic sage nearby to show me the path; I am feeling my way forward as best I can.
Every day I ask myself, how can I be wise, honest, just, brave, and self-controlled? I fail often. But I gradually through these principles I’ve begun to develop better habits of the mind and to alter my own behaviors and habits too.
This happens in ways large and small. I ask myself, how can I exercise self-control today? Is it by simply not checking online news headlines all afternoon, or skipping that tempting slice of cake? It is by refraining from pitying myself when something goes wrong? When it comes to wisdom, have I questioned my thoughts (and fears) about that email exchange that bothered me at work, rather than falling into paranoia? Have I been brave about providing honest feedback to colleagues and management, even when it's easier to stay silent? Have I been fair to my children and have I been open to their honest thoughts? How can I temper my high expectations of them, letting them find their own path forward while still offering good guidance and support?
It is an ongoing struggle - but not one that I’ll win by just trying.
So, after years of doubtful trying, I know that I can indeed change... gradually. Everyone can. It starts with a willingness to adjust your intentions, question your thoughts, and evolve your habits.
It's the kind of work that I'm glad to undertake for a lifetime.
About The Stoic Mom
I'm a writer, editor, and mom to two daughters in Northern California on a journey to discover how Stoic philosophy and mindful approaches can change a parent's - or any person's - life.