Meditations on Stoic Philosophy
Who doesn’t want to improve her life, regardless of her starting position? Self-improvement is often seen as the path to our ambitions, helping us beat life, find meaning, achieve success, and fulfil all the aspirations we believe disciplined living will eventually lead to. However, we often blur the distinction between using self-improvement as a means and treating it as an end. For many of us, self-improvement is both a goal in itself and a tool to reach further goals, leading to what seems like infinite progress—if such a thing exists.
Everything we do, sooner or later, becomes an exercise in self-improvement. Even rest, leisure, sleep, and socialising are no longer valued just for their inherent benefits; we see them as tools to recharge and enhance productivity after long hours of effort. In today's interconnected world, where people constantly measure themselves against others, self-improvement is not just about social or economic mobility. It becomes an expression of individuality, a way to stand out from the crowd, find personal meaning, and use one achievement as a stepping stone towards the next.
My journey into philosophy began with this understanding. I initially approached philosophy as a kind of intellectual self-help, and unsurprisingly, the Stoics seemed to offer a therapeutic guide to living. Naturally, I gravitated towards them.
At this point, I must digress slightly, though it’s central to my argument. Over the past few months, reflecting on various philosophical works has brought me to a simple yet overlooked truth: seeking knowledge as a means—such as striving for enlightenment, however you define it—often leads only to illusions. The simplest facts might seem trivial, but philosophy teaches us to question even the most basic assumptions. When we internalise certain concepts, they shape our understanding of the world. But does this understanding, represented by our own framework (let's call it t), truly reflect reality? If it did, wouldn’t everyone share the same conception of the world? Clearly, they do not. We each have our own version—t1, t2, t3, all the way up to tn, where n is over 7 billion.
We all seek the ultimate reality (let's call it T), but I propose that T is not defined objectively. For simplicity’s sake, we can think of T as being composed of many smaller parts (a, b, c... z), of which our individual understanding (t) is just one component. No matter how hard we try, we cannot get white light from just the colour red; we need the other colours to see the full spectrum, and ultimately, to understand something beyond colour itself.
There are stages to encountering philosophy. Initially, the practical benefits provide a short-term high, while more abstract concepts may seem nonsensical at first. However, these concepts offer deeper rewards to those who put in the necessary time.
This brings me to Stoicism, particularly Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, which provides an example of applying Stoic philosophy at the highest level. While philosophers like Epictetus and Seneca approached Stoicism from the bottom up, as common men, Aurelius’s Meditations offers a top-down perspective, reflecting the struggles and thoughts of an emperor.
The framework begins with self-improvement, discipline, and productivity—mastery of one’s world. In the context of modern society, Stoicism differs significantly from Christian philosophy and Epicureanism, the latter being one of the most misunderstood schools of thought. It’s important to note that utilitarianism, a principle shaping much of our modern world, is rooted in Epicurean ideas. This has influenced everything from individualism to social dynamics, from democracy to religion, illustrating how philosophy evolves with time but often revisits earlier ideas.
We begin our journey into philosophy with tangible self-improvement, moving upwards through progressively more abstract concepts, eventually asking the simplest and broadest questions—questions that are often the most subjective. Philosophy, as I have come to understand it, ultimately asks: What does it mean to be? This question demands significant reflection, ranging from nonsensical thoughts to epiphanies that may change how we view the world.
Now, let’s turn back to Stoicism and what I gained from Meditations. Here are some practical insights I’ve drawn from this philosophy:
List the people in your life—perhaps thirty individuals—those closest to you, role models, even enemies. Write down one virtue that best describes each person. You’ll find that these virtues reflect what you value most. Their habits and characteristics mirror your own ideals.
Reflect on the people you’ve hurt, and the worst actions you’ve taken. List those who have caused you harm. Can such individuals impose their evils upon you unless you allow it? Your mind is a sanctuary, protected from these outside forces unless you choose to internalise them.
Nothing truly disappears; the Earth is one massive recycler. Everything and everyone you know has always been here. From the people of the Indus Valley to the plastic toys of your childhood, all things return in different forms. The world is not a linear path from A to B; it’s cyclical. The only constant is change.
Why do people fear the passage of time? Life isn’t a straight line; it’s a point in time. That point is the present. The past is nothing but fuzzy memories. Whether someone lived 40 years or 90, they lived only in the present.
We have two natures: an animalistic, instinct-driven side and a rational, directed side. The former is effortless, but the latter requires overcoming the pain of discipline and impulse. It’s up to you to decide whether you will live like an animal or strive for higher reasoning.
Remind yourself daily that you can die at any moment. If this thought causes anxiety, use your rational mind to overcome it. With practice, you can become ready to face death without fear.
Memories are like photographs. Don’t romanticise your existence. Poetic attributions may feel good or bad, but they obscure your true purpose.
Death is part of nature’s function. It keeps the cycle going. You don’t weep over a fallen raindrop because you know that raindrops will continue to fall. View life in the same way.
Everyone loses their life eventually. Whether you live for 10 more years or 20, you’ll go through the same experiences. Once you’re gone, you won’t be there to see the years you’ve missed, so haven’t we all lived the same amount of life?
Random impulses, even productive ones, have no place in a Stoic life. They are mere distractions without structure. A directed mind builds a structure with a clear end in sight. It’s tedious, but it’s the only right way. Stoicism isn’t easy, and attributing romantic notions to reality only makes it harder.