366 - Your Beautiful Life: The Path of Stoic Joy

Is Stoicism all about being strong and serious? Is it too pessimistic and always looking for where things can go wrong, where the next challenge or struggle is? Today I want to talk about the softer side of Stoicism, and how many of the tools the Stoics teach us can actually lead us to joy.

“To live happily is an inward power of the soul.” 

— Marcus Aurelius

The Build an Unbreakable Mind program for building mental discipline is now open for enrollment!

My book Stoicism 101 is available! Order here!

Find out more at https://stoic.coffee

Watch episodes on YouTube!

Find me on linkedIn, instagram, or threads.

Thanks again for listening!

Transcript

Erick Cloward 0:00

Is Stoicism all about being strong and serious? Is it too pessimistic and always looking for where things can go wrong, where the next challenge or struggle is? Well, today I want to talk about the softer side of Stoicism and how many of the tools the Stoics teach us can actually lead us to joy. Hello, friends. My name is Erick Cloward and welcome to the Stoic Coffee Break. The Stoic Coffee Break is a weekly podcast where I take aspects of Stoicism and do my best to break them down to the most important points. I share my thoughts on Stoic philosophy and pull from ancient and modern wisdom, as well as psychology, neuroscience, basically anything I can get my hands on to help you think better. Because I believe if you think better, you can live better. This week's episode is called Your Beautiful Life: The Path of Stoic Joy. To live happily is an inward power of the soul. Marcus Aurelius. So this is a question that I was asked the other day, and I'm sure it's a question that a lot of my listeners carry quietly. It's, I've been studying Stoicism, I feel more grounded, more resilient, but sometimes it all feels a little joyless. Is that just the trade-off? Well, that's the trap. Most people encounter Stoicism through the lens of endurance. The grimly determined soldier, the lowercase stoic man who shows no emotion, the philosophy that's always preparing you for the next thing to go wrong. And yes, the Stoics absolutely teach us to prepare for adversity. But that's not the whole picture. Not even close. The problem is that this distorted version of Stoicism attracts people who are already emotionally suppressed and validates that suppression. You came to Stoicism to get stronger, but if you walked away thinking strength means feeling less, well, you've misread the whole thing. The Stoics weren't joy suppressors. They had a specific word for a good emotional life, eudaimonia, usually translated as happiness, but better understood as flourishing. They also had a category of healthy emotions called eupathia, literally good feelings. And one of those was chara, joy. This was something the Stoics actively cultivated. So today I want to make the case that the very tools Stoicism gives us, the ones that look like discipline and restraint from the outside, are actually pathways to some of the deepest, most durable joy available to us. So let's talk about what the Stoics actually taught. So, first let's talk about objectivity. So, one of the key aspects of Stoicism is to use our rationality and to be a little more objective in our perspective. Now, many people think that objectivity is cold and unfeeling, but stoic objectivity is about suspending your judgments about things, which allows you to actually be more compassionate. As Marcus Aurelius reminds us, it is in our power to have no opinion about a thing and not be disturbed in our soul, for things themselves have no natural power to form our judgments. When we get emotional about something, it's because we made a judgment about it. We're telling ourselves a story about it. We gave it meaning, and we're the ones in charge of the meaning that we give to something. Marcus also wrote, The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are. It is important to see things clearly for what they are, to separate out the reality of a situation and the judgments and emotions that we have about it. Then we can focus on the facts and respect the emotions. So the stoic practice of objectivity, of seeing things clearly without ego distortion, wishful thinking, or catastrophizing is usually applied outward to problems and obstacles. But turn that same clear gaze on yourself and something surprising happens. You stop being at war with who you are. Most self-criticism isn't honest, it's distorted. We judge ourselves by impossible standards, compare our insides to other people's outsides, and treat every mistake as evidence of a fundamental flaw. Stoic objectivity cuts through all that. Marcus writes, if it is not right, do not do it. If it is not true, do not say it. That same standard applies to the story you tell yourself about yourself. Seeing yourself clearly, neither inflating nor tearing down, creates the condition for genuine self-acceptance. Objectivity also leads to compassion, because that clarity naturally extends outwards. Marcus had a morning practice of reminding himself that the people he'd encounter would be difficult, ignorant, or unkind, and then immediately reframing it. They are this way because they don't know better. Maybe they haven't done the work. Maybe they're stuck in their own bias and distortions. Maybe they're struggling too. He goes on later to write, When a man has done you wrong, immediately consider what opinion about good or evil he has. For when you have seen this, you will pity him and will neither wonder nor be angry. That's compassion and understanding that is born of seeing things clearly, not naivete. Next, let's talk about emotional regulation. So the Stoic goal was never to suppress emotion. It was to not be ruled by it. And there's a world of difference between somebody who never feels fear and somebody who feels fear names it and then chooses their response. The first person is numb, the second is courageous. So Victor Frankel, who was a survivor of the Holocaust, captured it well. He said between stimulus and response, there is a space, and in that space is our power to choose our response. Stoic practice builds that space. And when you're less reactive, something genuinely pleasant emerges. You stop living in the maelstrom. As Marcus Aurelius put it, today I escaped anxiety, or no, I discarded it because it was within me, in my own perspective, not outside. Epictetus grounds the whole philosophy in one simple sentence. Some things are in our control and not in our control. Once you internalize that distinction, a huge percentage of daily anxiety simply loosens its grip. What remains isn't numbness, it's steadiness. And steadiness is what allows actual joy, because you're no longer in survival mode. By understanding clearly what you have control over and what you don't, you let go of the things outside of your control. And two things that you can't directly control are the past and the future. As Seneca reminds us, putting things off is the biggest waste of life. It snatches away each day as it comes and denies us the present by promising the future. The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today. You are arranging what lies in fortune's control and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at? To what goal are you straining? The whole future lies in uncertainty, live immediately. Think about it. The past has already happened and is unchangeable. The future is unknown and its outcome is uncertain. Worrying about either is an exercise in futility. He goes on to say, begin to live at once and count each separate day as a separate life. Because all you have is the present. Next, let's talk about gratitude. So most people don't know that Marcus Aurelius opens meditations not with philosophy or discipline, but with gratitude. Book one is almost entirely a list of what he received from other people in his life, his grandfather's good character, his father's humility, his teacher's honesty. It reads like a gratitude journal. And Epictetus reminds us, he is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has. And Seneca backs that up, saying, The reward for all virtues lies in the virtues themselves, for they are not practiced with a view to recompense. The wages of a good deed is to have done it. I feel grateful not because it profits me, but because it pleases me. Gratitude is an easy way to enjoy life immediately. Just take a moment and think about all of the things that you are grateful for. Your family, friends, having enough food, a guilty pleasure, even the simple fact that you are alive and that you even exist at all. I mean, how does that not improve your mood? So another way to practice gratitude is one that seems incredibly counterintuitive. The stoic practice of pre-meditatio malorum, imagining loss. It's usually framed as preparation for hardship. But the byproduct is a profound gratitude. When you generally sit with the thought that the people you love, the work you find meaningful, even small daily pleasures, none of it was guaranteed. Then you actually start experiencing the life you already have instead of moving through it on autopilot. And Seneca puts it plainly: true happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears, but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is sufficient. For he that is so wants nothing. By imagining what you could lose, you appreciate what you already have. So the Stoics held a radical idea about humanity, that we are all cosmopolites, meaning citizens of the world, not primary members of a tribe or a nation, but members of a universal human community held together by shared reason. Marcus returns to this idea constantly. He says, What injures the hive injures the bee. And we were made for cooperation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids. And Seneca also reminds us, wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness. This isn't a soft sentiment. It's a philosophical foundation for genuine love of neighbor. And it turns out to be a prescription for a richer life. Research on well-being consistently shows that people who feel connected to something larger than themselves, such as a community or a shared purpose, report significantly higher life satisfaction. Caring about the people around you and acting on that care generates real joy. Next, let's talk about virtue and having a clear conscience. So the Stoics held that virtue is the only true good. Everything else, such as wealth, reputation, health, is a preferred indifferent. Nice to have, but not worth compromising your character for. In daily life, what this produces is a clear conscience. When your intentions are genuinely good, when you're doing your honest best to act rightly, you carry an inner peace that external circumstances can't easily disrupt. You're not managing a web of small dishonesties, you're not performing for approval or dreading the day the performance fails. And owning your mistakes is also a part of that. So Seneca describes his teacher Sextus' evening review, asking himself each night, what weakness did I master today? How am I better? Not shame, not self-flagulation, just the honest, gentle accounting of someone who cares about growing. When you can own your mistakes without drowning in them, you stay in integrity. And that, quietly, consistently feels genuinely good. So how do we put this together in practice? So each of these stoic tools has a practical entry point. For objectivity and self-compassion, try applying the same standard to yourself that you would apply to a close friend. When you make a mistake, ask, what would I say to someone I care about who just did this? So Kristen Neff's research on self-compassion shows that people who do this are more resilient and more motivated, not less, than those who rely on harsh self-criticism. For emotional regulation, when you notice a strong reactive emotion rising, well, practice naming it before acting on it. Not suppressing it, but naming it. You can say, I'm feeling anxious about this. That single act of labeling creates Frankel's space between that stimulus and response. And over time, that space grows. For gratitude, you can try Marx's approach. Start a day or a week by listing what you received from other people in your life, not what you accomplished, what you were given, and it reorients you immediately. For cosmopolitanism, the next time somebody frustrates or disappoints you, try Marx's reframe. This person is struggling too. They're doing the best they know how to do. You don't have to agree with them or excuse their behavior, but seeing their humanity clearly changes how you carry on the interaction. For virtue, adopt a version of the evening review. At the end of each day, ask yourself two questions. Did I act in line with my values today? And where did I fall short? And what would I do differently? You can keep it brief, keep it honest, and let it be about growth and not about punishment. So the Stoics weren't building people who could endure a joyless existence with grim determination. They were building people who could actually experience the life they have with clear eyes, steady hearts, and a genuine connection to the world around them. The discipline isn't the point. The beautiful life it makes possible is the point. And here's what I find most compelling. Every single tool we've talked about today works because it removes an obstacle to joy rather than manufacturing something artificial. Objectivity removes the distortion of self-attack. Emotional regulation removes the static of reactivity. Gratitude removes the numbness of taking things for granted and finding appreciation in everyday life. Cosmopolitanism removes the loneliness of isolation. And virtue removes the quiet corrosion of living out of alignment with your values. The Stoics trusted that if you cleared away those obstacles, what was left would be good. That the human being living clearly and well would naturally find life worth inhabiting. And I think they were right. And I think that's a life worth building. Your beautiful life. And that's the end of this week's Stoic Coffee Break. As always, be kind to yourself, be kind to others, and thanks for listening. Also, if you haven't purchased my book, Stoicism 101, it'd be great if you would. You can find out more information on my website at stoic.coffee, where you can also sign up for my newsletter. And if you aren't following me on social media, you can do so as well. You can find me on Instagram and threads at stoic.coffee and on YouTube, LinkedIn, and Facebook at stoiccoffeeall1 word. Thanks again for listening.