Stoic practice is distinct from academic philosophy because it is a way of life—an art of living—supported by a holistic philosophical system. The Stoics never intended their system to be a primarily intellectual endeavor. Nor was it created as a quick fix, self-help program. This is obvious from the surviving Stoic texts. Unlike academic philosophical tomes, the writings of Seneca, Discourses of Epictetus, and Meditations of Marcus Aurelius challenge and inspire us. It is quite apparent that something profound motivated these Stoics to live uncommon lives. For two thousand years, their lives have encouraged people like us to live up to our full potential as humans who are capable of developing moral excellence and experiencing true freedom and well-being. Nevertheless, the path Seneca, Epictetus, Marcus, and the other ancient Stoics trod toward that goal was not an easy one.
As Pierre Hadot suggests, the practice of Stoicism will “turn our entire life upside down.”[1] While contemplating what that means, an image I found helpful was that of a farmer tilling a field. The process of tilling turns the soil upside down, and that serves several functions that help cultivate crops: It disrupts the root structure of existing weeds, it breaks up and loosens hardened soil, and it exposes fresh soil that is better able to absorb nutrients and support the growth of new seeds. Interestingly, these functions are analogous to cultivating our psyche, so it can bear the fruit of moral excellence. If a Stoic practitioner neglects to till the field of their psyche and instead scatters the seeds of Stoicism across untilled soil, they are unlikely to get the crop yield promised by the Stoics—eudaimonia. The initial excitement that comes from seeing the first signs of a plant breaking through the soil may be short-lived. That is because seeds scattered on hard, untilled soil may grow shallow roots if they can penetrate the soil at all. Those new seeds are forced to compete with preexisting weeds for water and nourishment. This is analogous to the modern Stoic practitioner who tries to apply Stoic sayings and techniques to their mind that is still entangled with the preexisting psychic weeds from a lifetime of false judgments, wrong desires, and irrational fears.
Many people come to Stoicism in the twenty-first century looking only for psychological techniques, mind hacks, or inspirational aphorisms that will help them overcome obstacles and achieve their preexisting personal goals. Likewise, many seek a means of developing tranquility in our chaotic times. Judging by the current popularity of Stoicism on social media, it appears that many people are benefitting from applying Stoic principles and practices to help them get a better job or promotion, manage a company, become a better athlete, recover from a breakup, etc. However, what many moderns overlook is the fact that seeking externals is not the goal of Stoic practice. In fact, as Epictetus teaches us in Enchiridion 1, desiring and chasing after those externals will keep us enslaved and cause us to lament and have a troubled mind. Likewise, moderns may overlook the fact that others can apply those same techniques to make them a better criminal, corrupt business person, tyrannical political leader, or an uncaring, disconnected human being. Therefore, we must keep this important truth in mind: If we apply Stoic techniques and practices to an untilled psyche, it will fertilize Stoic seeds and preexisting weeds. To experience true well-being, our Stoic practice must be aimed at an excellent moral character rather than externals like health, wealth, office, and reputation.
Stoic practice helps us develop new patterns of thought to replace our old errant judgments, misdirected desires, and disturbing aversions (weeds) so we can develop our moral excellence (virtue) and experience true well-being (eudaimonia). However, for those new seeds of thought to flourish and produce fruit, we must discover and disrupt the root system of those existing thoughts that create our psychological disturbances. That requires serious, ongoing effort. It requires us to till the soil of our psyche. Again, when we scatter seeds of Stoicism atop the hard ground of our psyche, amidst the weeds that have already taken root, and then use Stoic practices, techniques, or mind hacks to fertilize those seeds we are nourishing both the new Stoic seeds and the preexisting weeds. The Stoics never intended to help us achieve better health, more wealth, increased fame, a better reputation, etc. If we leave the desire for those externals in place, they will likely grow alongside the seeds of Stoicism. This means the trees of our Stoic orchard will be competing with preexisting weeds and they may never bear the fruit (moral excellence) Stoicism promises. That is why Stoic practice requires tilling the soil of our psyche. Stoicism requires us to turn the soil of our psyche (soul) upside down to disrupt those false judgments, desires and aversions that enslave us and trouble our minds. Then we can plant new seeds and reap a better harvest of well-being.
To expose errant judgments, wrong desires, and irrational aversions we must focus our attention (prosoche) on them. Then, we can use the discipline of assent to uproot those weeds. Simultaneously, the discipline of desire will help us select only the best seeds to plant in the tilled soil of our psyche—seeds that can produce moral excellence. Finally, we can apply the fertilizer of Stoic practice to the fresh soil and new seeds. That is the path of the prokopton, and the Stoics promise us it will bear fruit. To do so, however, we must understand and apply all three fields of study—logic, physics, and ethics. The ancient Stoics offered the simile of an orchard to represent the holistic nature of the Stoic system for good reason. A Stoic orchard must be protected by the fence, built via the discipline of assent to impressions (logic), so the soil and trees of appropriate desires (physics) can produce good fruit (ethics). In modern times, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) demonstrated the effectiveness of this ancient Stoic practice of examining and changing deeply held beliefs to effect change in one’s behavior.
As Aaron Beck, the founder of Cognitive Therapy, points out, our behavior is motivated by three levels of cognition: core beliefs, dysfunctional assumptions, and negative automatic thoughts. “Core beliefs, or schemas, are deeply held beliefs about self, others and the world.”[2] These core beliefs create a worldview—a map that represents the way the world is. The connection between a person’s worldview, their perception of events, and their behavior is fundamental to CBT practitioners. Jean-Baptiste Gourinat highlighted this connection in his 2009 paper titled Stoicism Today. He notes that“one’s behavior springs from one’s view of oneself and the world, and our psychological difficulties and disturbances derive from these views and from our (misconceived) perception of external events.”[3] The ancient Stoics understood the connection between beliefs, behavior, and psychological well-being. As a result, they developed a philosophical system that supported a way of life designed to develop an excellent moral character (virtue) and promote well-being. This way of life is far more holistic than CBT alone, which does not prescribe or promote any particular model of reality. As I have pointed out in several episodes, Stoic theory and practice, as the ancients conceived it, rely on trust in a providentially ordered cosmos. Therefore, it is unreasonable to think we can remove or ignore the Stoic worldview from their interdependent, holistic system without changing the system as a whole. That does not prohibit a modern from adapting Stoicism to an atheist worldview. However, such an adaptation will require significant modification to Stoic ethical theory and practices as well. Consequently, moderns who attempt to modify Stoicism in this way should be aware they are doing something the ancient Stoics did not conceive of, and their mileage may vary.
As Pierre Hadot suggests, the Stoic art of living is an “exercise” that consists of a “concrete attitude and determinate lifestyle, which engages the whole of existence.” He further points out, “The philosophical act is not situated merely on the cognitive level, but on that of the self and of being.”He argues this “conversion” is one that “turns our entire life upside down, changing the life of the person who goes through it.” As a result, we can rise above our “inauthentic condition of life, darkened by unconsciousness and harassed by worry” to an “authentic state of life” that includes “self-consciousness, an exact vision of the world, inner peace, and freedom.”[4] I have dedicated the last seven years of my life to the serious study of Stoic theory and a consistent—albeit far from perfect—attempt to put that theory into practice. During that time frame, I have also mentored numerous students through the basic course at the College of Stoic Philosophers and tutored students through the year-long advanced course known as the Marcus Aurelius School. From my personal experience and my observations of those I have mentored, I am convinced the results one gets from the practice of Stoicism are directly proportionate to one’s commitment to the Stoic path. A half-hearted commitment to the Stoic path will not create the psychological resilience and greatness of character we see in ancient Stoics. Why? Because, as Seneca points out:
To fashion a [Stoic] who can genuinely be called a [Stoic], a stronger fate is needed. For him, the way will not be flat: he must go up and down, he must be tossed by waves, and must guide his vessel on a stormy sea. He must hold his course against fortune. Many things will happen that are hard and rough (On Providence, 5.9)
Why are trials and hardships essential to the Stoic path?
