Why We Turn to the Stoics: Wisdom for Troubled Times
Introduction
This journey began with a reminder that our time on this earth is limited. After a sermon on the feeling of “nostalgia” by my pastor, Rev. Magrey deVega, I revisited a line from one of my old essays. I sent it to him: “You don’t know when the last time of something happening is… you’ll just know when you’ve never had that day again.” His reply brought it all home: “Memento Mori,” he said, “as the Stoics remind us.” I had to look up that term, which opened a door to Stoicism, which I’ve been walking through ever since. What started as a quiet reflection has become a steady companion in a season of uncertainty.
Why Stoicism Matters
We often imagine philosophy as a distant, academic pursuit that can seem abstract and untethered. But Stoicism has never been like that. From its earliest roots in ancient Greece, Stoicism was always meant to be lived, not just studied. It was forged not in ivory towers but in marketplaces, battlefields, and courtrooms. Its great teachers, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, and Seneca, weren’t cloistered scholars. They were slaves, emperors, and advisors. They lived in the thick of things, often in perilous times, as do we.
In our current world, shaped by uncertainty, political upheaval, global conflict, and the erosion of trust in institutions, many of us are looking for something steady. Not false reassurance. Not a distraction. But clarity. A framework that doesn’t promise control over the chaos but a way to remain centered within it.
I was discussing this with Rev. deVega, who said there was a resurgence of interest; you can see it in the bookstore displays. In talking to another friend, he mentioned that his son and other young people seemed to be getting interested in Stoicism.
Stoicism offers a way to respond rather than react, focusing not on the world’s noise but on the choices we still control. It’s not about suppressing emotion but about recognizing the difference between what we feel and what we do. It’s not a call to detach from the world but to live in it with integrity and wisdom.
What We Find in the Stoics
When people first open a book of Stoic thought, it’s often in the wake of disruption: a loss, a betrayal, a diagnosis, a change that wasn’t chosen. In those moments, modern platitudes ring hollow. Stoicism, on the other hand, meets the moment with unvarnished truth.
We read Epictetus saying, “It’s not things that disturb us, but our interpretation of them.” Or Marcus Aurelius reminding himself, “You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” And suddenly, it’s as if we’re sitting with someone who has walked a similar path.
The Stoics don’t deny emotion or suffering. They teach us not to be ruled by it. They remind us to ask: What is within my power? What can I control, and what must I let go?
They offer practices, not prescriptions. Daily habits like journaling, meditation, and reflection anchor us when everything else is adrift. Because in times of trouble, our thoughts shape our world more than the world shapes our thoughts.
Ancient Echoes for Today
Contemporary thinkers have continued the Stoic thread. Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, famously wrote: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.” That’s pure Stoicism, grounded in the worst of human experience, yet still offering light.
Ryan Holiday, who has helped renew public interest in Stoicism, says, “The obstacle is the way.” What blocks our path may, in fact, become our path if we meet it rightly.
And in my own words, from My Creed: “I believe in the holiness of ordinary days.” That, too, is Stoic in spirit—an insistence that clarity, beauty, and goodness aren’t only found in grand gestures or dramatic changes but in the steadfast embrace of daily life.
More recently, Massimo Pigliucci, a philosopher who combines ancient Stoicism with modern science, wrote, “Stoicism is not about gritting your teeth, but about aligning your will with the nature of things.” It’s a softer strength, a different kind of courage.
Even in pop culture, the echoes remain. When Ted Lasso says, “Be curious, not judgmental,” we hear a Stoic call to respond with understanding, not assumption. When Mr. Rogers tells us to “look for the helpers,” he calls the Stoic imperative: focus on where your action can matter.
Why It Matters Now
In times of trouble and chaos, we need more than strategies; we need soul-level clarity. Not every hardship can be solved, and not every injustice can be undone overnight. But we can still decide how we will live, what we will stand for, and how we will treat others and ourselves.
This is where Stoicism goes beyond “self-help.” It asks us to cultivate character to become people of integrity, not because it pays but because it’s right, to do the good that is ours to do and to do it without regard for the outcome.
It’s no coincidence that more people are turning to the Stoics in recent years, with so much shifting under our feet. Not because they offer an escape but because they offer a path. A compass. It reminds us that we can learn to steer even when we can’t calm the storm.
And this isn’t abstract. It’s personal. I am walking through one of those storms. A recent layoff wasn’t a total shock, but it still hit hard. The questions that follow, about purpose, direction, and security, are real and heavy. And yet, I’ve got a reason to still write, reflect, and choose. That’s Stoicism. Not a denial of the difficulty but a refusal to surrender to it.
A Steadying Rail
For me and anyone walking a hard road right now, Stoicism is not a rejection of feeling but a discipline of staying rooted. It’s the breath we take before answering in fear. It’s the decision to keep showing up with grace and determination, even when the next step isn’t clear.
Perhaps most of all, it’s the daily practice of remembering that this moment matters. This day is ours to shape, even now…especially now.
You are still here. And that is enough to begin.
In a world that shouts and spins, Stoicism is a quiet voice that says: You are still here. And that is enough to begin. Discovering these ideas is what I’m finding on this journey.
I hope this journey will be a steadying guide for me in a tough time. I may have extra time for this study for a short time (at least, I hope it’s a short period of unemployment). At other times, the pace will be slower, as I hope to be busier, but I’m finding the thoughts of the Stoics, both ancient and modern, to provide good reminders to focus only on the pieces of life I can control.
My time to read and reflect will often be sporadic, but writing about what I learn and discover through this wisdom has been a calming and steady force during the current turbulence in my life and the world around me. Reflections calm me, and meditating on the ideas to write about my reflection gives me strength. I hope you find some of the same steadying grace I am encountering on this journey.
I began this series not as a scholar of Stoicism but as someone who, like many, faces the tides of change with more questions than answers. What started as a passing curiosity has become a quiet companion. And so, I write. I write in hopes of making sense of what I’m living through. And I share in hopes that something in these reflections might resonate with someone else making their own way through hardship, transition, or simply the hard work of being human.
This isn’t a study in philosophy, for philosophy’s sake. I hope it will be something more grounded than that. I want to know: What can these ancient voices offer someone dealing with modern uncertainty? Why do people still turn to the Stoics when things fall apart? What have others found in these writings that helps them live better, not perfectly, but more deliberately?
You don’t need a degree in classics to get something out of the Stoics. Start with a few passages from Marcus Aurelius’ “Meditations”. Listen to the piercing clarity of Epictetus in the “Discourses.” Or pick up something like Ryan Holiday’s “The Daily Stoic, “ a modern entry point that brings these timeless ideas into dialogue with our daily lives. There are also podcasts, interviews, and essays that make Stoicism approachable without watering it down. I’ll be drawing on all of those here. This isn’t a course. It’s a companion on the road.
This series won’t be an orderly progression. The essays won’t follow some curriculum or a particular order of themes. Each essay will be written to examine how the Stoics might respond to a specific moment, comment, thought, or action. They’ll come from everyday happenings, feelings in the moment, or some coincidence of circumstance.
And no, I don’t think Stoicism is the complete answer to life’s messiness. But it’s a helpful lens, a reminder, a philosophy that whispers, not with grand bravado but with calm strength, “You can face this.” That’s why I keep coming back. And why I hope, wherever you are, you might find something in this series that you can carry with you, too.
Climb aboard, fellow traveler.
