You don’t need a toga. You don’t need to read Marcus Aurelius in the original Greek. And you definitely don’t need to follow some bro on Twitter selling a $497 “Stoic Masculinity” course.
Stoicism is having a moment, and like most things having a moment on the internet, 90% of what people are saying about it is wrong. It’s been rebranded as cold plunges, suppressing emotions, and grinding through life like a charmless robot. That’s not what the Stoics taught. That’s just being a jerk who pretends suffering is a personality trait.
Real Stoicism is older than Christianity, was practiced by emperors and slaves alike, and survives because it actually works. It’s a practical operating system for handling the parts of life you didn’t sign up for — job loss, sick parents, traffic, the slow grind of being an adult with responsibilities.
Here are three Stoic ideas you can use this week. No philosophy degree required. No cold plunge necessary.
1. The Dichotomy of Control: Stop Wasting Energy on Things You Can’t Touch
Epictetus was born a slave. He had less control over his life than almost anyone you’ll ever meet. And he’s the guy who wrote the clearest sentence in all of Stoicism:
“Some things are up to us, and some things are not up to us.”
That’s the whole game. Every time you feel anxious, frustrated, or stuck — stop and ask one question: Is this in my control?
In your control: Your actions. Your effort. Your response. How prepared you are. What you say. What you do next.
Not in your control: Other people’s opinions. The economy. Traffic. Whether your boss is a jerk. Whether it rains on your camping trip. Whether the promotion comes through. The past. Most of the future.
Sounds obvious. It isn’t. Look at where your stress goes today and you’ll find that 80% of it is parked on things you literally cannot influence. You’re chewing on a problem like a dog with a bone, except the bone is plastic and you’re breaking your own teeth.
How to actually use it: When something bothers you, get a pen. Draw two columns. Write the situation. On the left, list everything that’s in your control. On the right, everything that isn’t. Then ignore the right column for the rest of the day. You’ll feel ridiculous for about ten minutes, and then you’ll feel free.
I do this when I’m catastrophizing about something at 11 PM. Works almost every time. The list of things I can actually do is usually three items long. The list of things I’m anxious about is twenty.
2. Negative Visualization: Pre-Game the Worst Case
The Stoics called it premeditatio malorum — the premeditation of evils. The modern self-help industry hates this because it sounds depressing. “Why would you imagine bad things happening? Manifest abundance, brother!”
Because manifesting abundance doesn’t work, and pretending bad things won’t happen is how people get steamrolled when they inevitably do.
Here’s how it actually goes: Spend two minutes a day imagining something you fear. Losing your job. Your car breaking down on a back road. Your kid getting hurt. Your spouse leaving. Not in a doom-scroll way — in a calm, detailed, problem-solving way. If this happened, what would I do? Who would I call? Do I have the savings? Do I have the skills?
Two things happen:
- You stop being afraid of it. Most fears shrink in size the moment you stare at them and ask “what would I actually do?” The shapeless dread becomes a checklist.
- You prepare. You realize you don’t have a flat tire kit in your truck. You don’t have three months of expenses saved. You don’t know first aid. So you fix it. Quietly. Before the day comes.
This is why I’m a big believer in real-world preparation — not the bunker-and-bullets kind, but the boring kind. Know how to start a fire without matches. Have a flashlight in your truck. Keep a basic first aid kit and a multi-tool in your everyday carry. The point isn’t paranoia. The point is that when something does go sideways — and it will, eventually — you’ve already mentally walked through it. You don’t panic. You execute.
There’s a bonus effect the Stoics talked about constantly: when you regularly imagine losing what you have, you start to actually appreciate it. Your kid’s annoying laugh. Your wife’s terrible playlist. Your beat-up old truck. You stop taking it for granted because you’ve already, in your head, lost it once today.
3. Memento Mori: Remember You’re Going to Die
I know. Heavy. Stay with me.
The Stoics had a phrase — memento mori, “remember that you must die.” Roman generals coming home from victory parades reportedly had a slave whisper it in their ear so they wouldn’t get too high on themselves. Marcus Aurelius wrote about it constantly in his private journal. You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.
It sounds morbid for about thirty seconds. Then it becomes the clearest filter for decision-making you’ll ever own.
Try this: Right now, do the math. If you live to 80, how many weekends do you have left? (Hint: take 80 minus your age, multiply by 52.) Write that number on a sticky note. Put it on your bathroom mirror.
If you’re 40, that’s about 2,000 weekends. That’s it. That’s the budget. Doesn’t feel infinite anymore, does it?
What this does — and this is the part the bros selling discipline courses miss entirely — is it makes you less serious about the small stuff and more serious about the big stuff. The petty fight with your brother-in-law? Who cares. The promotion you didn’t get? Will not matter in five years. The fact that you’ve been saying you’ll learn to weld / take that trip / call your dad more / start lifting again for the last three years? That matters. The clock is running.
Stoicism isn’t about not caring. It’s about caring about the right things. Memento mori is the tool that tells you which is which.
What Stoicism Isn’t
Before you go quote-tweeting Marcus Aurelius at your enemies, a quick reality check on what real Stoicism is NOT:
- Not suppressing emotions. The Stoics were big on feeling things fully — they just didn’t want feelings to drive the car. Feel sad. Feel angry. Then choose what to do about it.
- Not being cold or detached. Marcus Aurelius wrote love letters to his wife. Epictetus had close friends. The “stone-faced Stoic” thing is a meme, not the philosophy.
- Not grinding 16 hours a day. The Stoics talked constantly about rest, friendship, food, conversation, walks. They weren’t trying to optimize their dopamine. They were trying to live well.
- Not a personality. “I’m a Stoic” said out loud is almost always a red flag. It’s a practice, not a Twitter bio.
Your Challenge This Week
Pick one. Just one. Don’t try to become a Stoic monk by Friday.
- For the next 7 days, every time you feel stress rising, ask: Is this in my control? If no, drop it. If yes, do something about it.
- Once a day, spend 2 minutes imagining a worst-case scenario in detail. Plan your response. Then go on with your day.
- Do the weekend math. Write the number down. Put it where you’ll see it every morning.
Don’t journal about it. Don’t tell anyone you’re doing it. Just run the experiment for a week and notice if anything shifts.
My take: of the three, the dichotomy of control is the one that’s changed my life the most. It’s the simplest tool, and it’s the one I forget most often. Every time I remember it, I get an hour of my brain back.
Stoicism survived 2,400 years because it works on regular humans with regular problems. Not because it’s deep or impressive. Because some ideas are just true, and pretending they’re complicated is how people sell courses.
— Shelle