The Practicing Stoic summary

As we’ve seen, Stoics argue that it’s our reaction to judgments about events – not the events themselves – that make us feel a certain way about them. 

This idea can have a profound implication for our outlook on the world. As the sixteenth-century French philosopher Michel de Montaigne put it, if evils impact us only through our judgments, then we have the power to either reject them or convert them into positives. Learning how to do that, he concluded, would spell “a great victory for the relief of our miserable human condition.” 

Stoicism, Marcus Aurelius wrote, rests on two principles. The first should be familiar: the world itself doesn’t make us miserable – only our judgments and opinions can truly disturb us. 

The second principle is transience; everything changes and eventually fades away. In other words, life is in constant flux, as both historical records and personal observation confirm. To keep this in mind, Marcus Aurelius thinks, helps us think more clearly about our own lives. 

Satisfying our desires rarely brings the lasting satisfaction we anticipate. Instead, fulfilling one desire typically sparks another, creating a never-ending cycle of wanting. As Seneca asks, “Who was ever satisfied, after attainment, with that which loomed up large as he prayed for it?”

Such perpetual dissatisfaction is often fueled by our tendency to compare ourselves with others. Arthur Schopenhauer, a nineteenth-century philosopher influenced by Stoic ideals, argues that there’s no absolute amount of wealth or success that can satisfy a person. Our satisfaction is always relative – it depends on the disparity between our achievements and our expectations. In other words, it’s an insatiable misery-producing machine. 

Stoicism is a rigorous mental training regimen, not unlike physical training. Just as achieving excellence in athletics demands commitment and persistence, so too does the practice of Stoicism require dedicated mental exercise. It challenges us to train our minds to respond not instinctively but thoughtfully to life’s events, reprogramming our automatic reactions to a more considered approach.

The practice of Stoicism is particularly demanding because the mind must function both as trainer and trainee. It must recognize its faults and correct them, a process that involves steady attention and energy but becomes increasingly natural over time. Seneca likens it to a demanding martial art that, though difficult, yields significant rewards in peace of mind, fearlessness, well-being, and wisdom.