A Beginner's Guide to Stoicism
A complete walkthrough of theory and practice
Friends,
I wrote this guide over 4 years ago. I did it because Stoicism played a huge role in my life back then and taught me many valuable things. My goal was to share them with others.
Reading over it now made me cringe a lot. I think that’s a good thing. Plenty has changed since then—not least my writing style and ‘life philosophy’—but I’ve decided to leave it untouched and resurface it here anyway, as some people found it to be very helpful.
If you’re looking to learn about Stoicism, I hope the same will be true for you.
Just make sure to have a snack and some (good) coffee with you—it’s a biggy.
Part I - Theory
What's your OS?
There is a lot of talk nowadays about computer and smartphone operating systems (aka ‘OS’).
Some people swear by the practicality and user-friendliness of Apple’s iOS, whereas others prefer the customizable and less restrictive Android OS. Some people like Windows, others prefer Linux (at least, I think). But there is remarkably little talk about our own operating systems.
What OS are you running, as a human being?
Let me rephrase that:
What’s your philosophy of life? What lens do you view the world through? What do you consider good, evil, virtuous, or disgraceful? What guiding principles do you represent? How do you defend them? and, most importantly, how are your actions coherent with them?
We all know we should take care of our hardware by exercising rigorously, adjusting our eating habits, optimizing our hormones, and sleeping 8 hours a night. But what about our software? Why do we just take it for granted?
It would be a shame to die having only thoughtlessly consumed information, without ever considering what we truly think, why it is we think it and how we can align our actions with it.
After Socrates was sentenced to death for having “corrupted the Athenian youth” with his ability to make people think, a magical explosion took place in ancient Greece. Even though the man died, his students were very much alive—and they were not willing to give up their new discovery of philosophy. Leaderless, they decided to start their own philosophical movements and, soon, the city was sprinkled with many different schools of thought.
As a result, an Athenian citizen could decide to join the Cynics, the Skeptics, the Physicists, the Moralists, the Hedonists… all with different interpretations of the world and of their place within it. Essentially, Athenian citizens were able to consciously pick and choose their own operating system. They could try installing SkepticOS and, if it did not work out for them, migrate to HedonistOS instead.
(I’m obviously simplifying.)
Although I do not advocate sticking to one rigid belief system (dogmatism is dangerous), I can’t help but be fascinated by this phenomenon.
Compare this historical gem to what we have nowadays. Our postmodern societies are riddled with uncertainty, and we have no idea how to deal with it. We are free to think whatever we want… but we don’t know what we want.
We live at the paradoxical crossroad between total information and total uncertainty. As a result, most individuals nowadays seem to be running on some faulty version of StressOS, AnxiOS or even DepressOS.
In all seriousness, let’s take a quick look at some overwhelming numbers:
The Anxiety and Depression Association of America (ADAA) reports that 322 million people live with depression worldwide.
Almost 1 in 10 American adults suffered from a Major Depressive Episode in 2017, and 4 out of 10 battle with Anxiety Disorder.
In this same country, the 2nd leading cause of death for people aged 14-25 is death by suicide. For this age group, suicide takes more lives than cancer, heart disease, influenza, pneumonia, diabetes, human immunodeficiency virus, and stroke combined.
In 2017 alone, at least 1.4 million people attempted to end their lives in the US. That’s one attempt every 28 seconds, with male rates being x3.5 higher than female ones.
Clearly, we are doing something wrong.
In 1955, famous psychologist, psychoanalyst and philosopher Erich Fromm defended that:
“The poorest countries have the lowest incidence of suicide, and the increasing material prosperity in Europe was accompanied by an increasing number of suicides and alcoholism. […] We find, then, that countries in Europe which are among the most democratic, peaceful and prosperous ones, and the United States—the most prosperous country in the world—show the most severe symptoms of mental disturbance.”
Erich Fromm (The Sane Society)
The scope of this problem is immense, and many famous individuals have already contributed to finding their pieces of the puzzle. Sigmund Freud attributed the problem to civilization itself, Viktor Frankl pointed towards a lack of deep existential purpose, Émile Durkheim talked about anomie, and countless philosophers have discussed the dangers of nihilism.
The purpose of this article is not to discuss why these issues arise but rather how we can address them, even if only a little bit. I have no intention of writing a critique of our society and blaming capitalism, socialism, postmodernism or any other -isms here. The sole purpose of this article is to pique your curiosity and provide you with a set of tools that will better allow you to confront daily problems, worries and anxieties.
Hopefully, by the end of it, we will have understood how to develop what bestselling author Tim Ferris calls “an Operating System for high-stress environments”. If you manage to install it properly, you will notice a few things change for the better.
First and foremost, you will sense that unnecessary suffering will be reduced dramatically. You will start becoming less reactive to your circumstances, and will develop a sense of calm and control over your emotions. You will make better decisions under pressure and you will deal with external opinions and criticisms without a struggle. To top it all off, you will make these things happen whilst making your life and that of those around you flourish.
Sounds interesting?
Let’s get to it.
Warning: I am not a psychologist. I am not a psychiatrist. I am not a medical professional. This article, therefore, should never be taken as medical advice. If you suffer from depression and/or have suicidal thoughts, please seek professional help. Similarly, if someone you know is exhibiting depressive and/or suicidal warning signs, please take immediate action and seek professional help.
The Origins of CBT
During a conference of the American Psychological Association in 1956, a man named Albert Ellis presented a revolutionary psycho-therapeutic approach to help people resolve their emotional and behavioral problems. He called it Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), and it focused on solving problems pragmatically (helping patients recognize false beliefs, improve their behavior and emotional regulation, and develop powerful coping mechanisms to face their current problems).
CBT has since then been the gold standard for treating patients and supporting them in leading happier and more fulfilling lives. 50 years later, the famous magazine Psychology Today reported the following about Albert Ellis:
“No individual—not even Freud himself—has had a greater impact on modern psychotherapy.”
Psychology Today (2001 issue)
Albert Ellis knew that his new form of therapy was “by no means entirely new”, and he took inspiration from many of his contemporaries (like Alfred Adler and Erich Fromm himself).
However, Albert’s greatest source of inspiration did not come from other psychology and psychoanalysis theories of his time. It did not even come from theories of his generation… or his century… or his millennium. Albert Ellis’ theory was actually based on teachings written two thousand years before him.
I guess it’s time for a throwback.
In 161 A.D., Marcus Aurelius woke up one morning and became the ruler of the world's largest empire. He went from man to Emperor of Rome in a single night's sleep. He was not just Marcus anymore; he was Imperator Caesar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, which basically translates to “Emperor Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Emperor” (just to make sure you know who's in charge).
Marcus went on to rule until 180 A.D., and his reign is considered to be one of the most successful in Roman history. He was renowned for his righteousness and love of justice. When it comes to the qualities of an ideal ruler, Marcus checked pretty much every box. For centuries after his death, whenever historians and philosophers talked about “virtuous men” or “honorable men”, most of them had Marcus in mind. Even the legendary Niccolò Machiavelli—the father of modern political science—described him as a role model for all rulers.
In hindsight, it seems like the emperor was made for the job… but at the time, Marcus himself was not so convinced of that.
And to be honest, can you blame him?
Most of us complain when our days are slightly disturbed by unexpected responsibilities. Your Sunday evening is ruined if you have to suddenly take care of some paperwork or keep an eye on your little cousin. Imagine being handed an empire instead. Here, it's yours, no pressure… but the entire known world is watching.
To make matters worse, that’s not even your biggest concern. Not only do you have to run an empire now, you also have to take command of the biggest monster of them all: yourself.
The pressure is not just external, it's mostly internal.
Suddenly becoming Emperor of Rome means suddenly having access to whatever you wish for. Seriously: anything. You are the richest, most powerful, most glorified human being in existence. You don’t need a genie; you are the genie. Ask ahead, what do you want? The best food and wine in the world? Here you go. To cut the head of anyone who disrespects you? No problem. Dozens of women and men with whom to indulge? Easy.
Imagine putting up with such a colossal temptation for nineteen years. Imagine being tempted at that level every. single. day. How many of you can say—with a straight face—that you would not fall victim to your own desires?
Come on, you can barely stop yourself from binge-watching Netflix, are you saying you would not binge on everything you ever wished for? It’s no secret that “with great power comes great responsibility” (RIP uncle Ben), or that, as Lord Acton put it:
"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."
Lord Acton
But, as lecturer Michael Sugrue noted, Mr. Acton should have put a little asterisk next to his quote, something along the lines of *Unless you are Marcus Aurelius.
Seriously, the man was truly remarkable. How the hell did Marcus go beyond all expectations, stand above all previous and upcoming emperors, and come within touching distance of being the personification of Plato’s ideal ruler (the Philosopher King)?
Well, you see, Marcus had a trick up his sleeve. He was running on perhaps the most practical and honorable human OS to have ever existed. It’s known as Stoicism.
To put it simply, Stoicism is one of the most practical philosophies ever.
It’s Stoicism that gave Marcus the ability to handle the stress of ruling the world’s most powerful empire; it’s Stoicism that gave Marcus impeccable control over his emotions; and—you guessed it—it’s Stoicism that inspired Albert Ellis into creating his legendary Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.
So, if this particular philosophy helped the most powerful man on earth righteously lead his empire for almost two decades, and one of the most renowned psychologists in history create a wildly successful approach to therapy, chances are you and I can also benefit from its teachings.
Buckle up buttercup, this is…
Stoicism 101
A Practical Philosophy
What would you say a “philosopher” does?
Generally, people tend to answer this question starting with the word think. Philosophers think about important questions; they think about the meaning of life and our place in the universe; they think about logic and arguments; some even think about thinking. These are fair answers.
As a matter of fact, it’s very possible that many philosophers have spent a little too much time thinking. Pierre Hadot, the author of Philosophy as a Way of Life, pointed out in his book that…
“Modern philosophy appears above all as the construction of a technical jargon reserved for modern specialists.”
Pierre Hadot (Philosophy as a Way of Life)
This is one of the main reasons why philosophy seems so unappealing nowadays. There is little time for theory in our world. We care about action, results, and change. We want to walk the walk, not talk the talk! We don’t waste our precious time studying the discourses of archaic bearded men with too much time on their hands. We have rent to pay and food to put on our plate! Leave the esoteric thinking to those who can afford it.
If you have ever shared this sentiment, then I have good news for you. Ancient philosophy—and in particular, Stoicism—was just as concerned with practice as it was with theory—maybe even more so.
Ancient philosophers had, after all, one very specific goal in mind: to teach you how to live a good life. Further, at this time in history, philosophy was what Professor Michael Sugrue called “the great equalizer of men”. It was not limited to an elite minority; it was meant for the people. Even Stoicism takes its name from the painted porch (stoa poikilê) in which Stoics held their lectures, right in the middle of the Agora, the busiest spot in Athens.
Perhaps there is no better example of how practical and universal Stoicism is than that of Epictetus.
Epictetus was one of the highest authorities in Stoicism and, during Marcus Aurelius’ time, he was considered the Stoic par excellence. Marcus Aurelius himself admired Epictetus and mentions him many-many times during his Meditations. This wouldn’t be particularly interesting if it weren’t for a beautiful irony… Epictetus was a slave who never wrote anything.
Let me say that again: what’s probably the biggest authority in Stoicism was a servant who, incidentally, didn’t care enough about theory to write it down.
Isn't this fascinating? On the one hand, you have an emperor; on the other, a slave. Under the law, two opposites; under Stoicism, two men.
The Birth of a Stoic
Stoicism was founded by a guy named Zeno. You may have heard the name before if you’ve ever come across Zeno’s famous Achilles vs Tortoise Race paradox. Well, that’s not the Zeno I’m talking about. Our Zeno is a different Zeno.
In a nutshell, Zeno of Citium was the philosophically-inclined son of a merchant who, after suffering a devastating shipwreck, ended up in Athens. There, he decided to join the Cynics—one of the most hardcore schools of philosophy in the city. Cynics were willingly homeless and had no possessions. Despite their terrible appearance, they were famous for being very witty and humorous. They were also—unsurprisingly—very cynical, and said things like “may the sons of your enemies live in luxury!” or even:
“What sort of woman should one marry? If she's beautiful, you'll not have her to yourself; if she's ugly, you'll pay for it dearly.”
Antisthenes
After living on the streets for a while, Zeno decided it was time for him to diversify his philosophy portfolio and went on to learn from other masters. Soon, he gathered sufficient knowledge to start his own school of thought, and Stoicism was born.
From the beginning, Stoicism seemed like a very reasonable and useful philosophy, so it quickly became popular among the Athenians. Unlike the Cynics, Stoics did not despise physical possessions, and did not require you to live on the streets; in fact the Stoics had a very relaxed approach to wealth. Do you own a comfortable bed and can enjoy good food on your plate? As long as you are grateful for it, don’t let it dictate who you are and are not scared of losing it, enjoy it! If good things come your way, don’t deny them—but if they leave, don’t grieve them.
This is best summed up with one of Marcus Aurelius’ best quotes:
"To accept without arrogance; to let go with indifference."
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
That’s a life motto if I’ve ever heard one.
A Solid Foundation
The spot before the painted porch slowly filled up with people wanting to learn more. If you were an Athenian citizen at the time and attended one of their lectures, you would have found that their teaching methods were surprisingly similar to the ones we still use today. The class usually consisted of two main parts: a lecture and a discussion.
First, the Stoic masters would teach you about theory and, when the class finished, the students would stay and ask questions with regards to its application. As you can imagine, the latter was the most popular portion of the class.
I know the word theory is slumber-inducing for many people in and of itself, so I will be quick. Despite their pragmatism, the early Stoics did consider theory to be fundamental. Their philosophy was divided into three parts (topos, or topoi in plural):
Logic: The study of arguments and the proper use of reason.
Physics: The study of the the world, both physical and ethereal.
Ethics: The study of living a good life.
Wait a minute, these terms do not mean what I thought they meant.
Well, in Ancient Greece, when people talked about physics they were not necessarily talking about matter, motion and whatnot. Instead, physics was concerned with the natural world, its place in the universe, and its relation to the gods (you can think of it as our science and theology combined).
Similarly, ethics was not so much concerned with labeling things as good or evil, but with studying how to live a life worth living. The technical term for it is “eudaemonistic ethics”, which roughly translates to “ethics for the good spirit”. The ultimate goal of the Stoics was to live a life of eudaimonia a concept of that goes way beyond “happiness”. Living a eudaemonistic life meant living in harmony with your highest self (more on this later).
It’s no wonder, then, that out of these three areas, the study of ethics was the most important one.
However, in order to “qualify” for studying ethics, Stoics believed you should have previously studied the other two. You would start learning logic (because it taught you how to reason properly) and then physics (because it taught you about the world you live in and your human nature) before finally moving onto ethics.
It is usually said that logic and physics were only related to theory whereas ethics was only related to practice. This, as Hadot notes, is not true: both theory and practice were made up of the three topoi, but their approach was a little different.
When it comes to theory, the subjects of logic, physics and ethics were separate. Think of it like different classes at school; one day you learn about history, the next about math. Pretty normal. However, in practice, the three parts fused together. Hadot explains it as follows:
“On this level, we are no longer concerned with theoretical logical, we are concerned with not letting ourselves be deceived in our everyday lives by false representations. We are no longer concerned with theoretical physics, we are concerned with being aware, at every instant, that we are parts of the cosmos, and that we must make our desires conform to this situation. We are no longer concerned with ethical theory, we simply act in an ethical way.”
Pierre Hadot (Philosophy as a Way of Life)
Before you run away—don’t worry! We're here to talk about ethics, not boring logic and physics theory (unless they help us understand their life reasoning).
Given that ethics itself is quite a broad topic, I thought it would be a good idea to summarize its essence through simple maxims to live by. These are by no means official, but hopefully they’ll be good enough to not make Marcus Aurelius roll over in his grave.
If Stoicism has caught your eye and you were thinking of implementing more into your life, then it would be a good idea to start by understanding these major rules. I encourage you to read them, research them (I'll provide plenty of resources at the end) and start meditating on them throughout your day. Once you have familiarized yourself with them a little more, you can check Part II where we will go over a lot of detailed practical exercises for the modern stoic.
Sounds good? Awesome.
Four Stoic maxims to live by
Maxim #1: Know the difference between what you can and can’t control
Even though Epictetus never wrote anything, Arrian of Nicomedia—one of his best students—decided that his teachings were too precious not to have on paper. So, he wrote them down for us. Today, you can buy Epictetus’ “Manual” for life (known as Enchiridion) in pretty much any bookstore. The text cuts to the chase right from the start by explaining to us what's probably the number one rule of the Stoics:
“Happiness and freedom begin with a clear understanding of one principle: Some things are within our control, and some things are not.”
Epictetus (Enchiridion)
The Stoics took this rather obvious statement very seriously.
Very.
Most of us already know that some things are within our power and others are not—but few of us act according to it. You still get mad when the train arrives late or when it rains unexpectedly. You still get frustrated when your online orders don’t arrive by the expected date. You still get disappointed when your steak is slightly overcooked.
Even if you—in particular—don’t get worked up about these things, remember they are just petty examples. We can take them up a notch.
What about death, disease, accidents or heartbreak? How many lives have been ruined by past traumas? How many people have never been able to get over a disease they caught, a divorce, or the death of a loved one? How many men and women die crying?
The Stoics were famous for having built a citadel inside their minds: an impenetrable fortress in which, no matter how bad things were out there, they could always be at peace. This citadel—this emotional stronghold—was built on a sturdy foundation known as the Dichotomy of Control, which is just a fancy way of saying: “some things are up to you and some things are not up to you".
The Stoics could not stress enough how important this distinction is. If you spend your time and attention with things that are not under your control, what you are actually doing is engaging in a state of self-imposed slavery, for you will always be at the mercy of external circumstances. That the train arrived late is not your fault—that you got mad and remained moody all afternoon, is.
The Dichotomy of Control becomes even more persuasive when we contextualize it within the Stoic framework.
Remember how we just talked about physics? Well, the Stoics thought that the entire universe was harmoniously ruled by one underlying principle (basically, Nature, or God). But they also believed that everything that exists is also corporeal, even God (though they obviously recognized some incorporeals like the void, time and meanings). This is why they often refer to God as Nature. When Stoics speak of Nature, they are not talking about trees, grass and rivers; they mean… everything. Nature is the very fabric of existence, and all the rules it operates under.
Here’s why this matters: one of those fundamental rules is cause and effect. Everything is determined by previous events. The fact that you’re reading this right now has been coming since the dawn of time. The fact that it’s sunny here in Spain today was already written down before our galaxy even existed.
The book of Nature was already written down—we’re just reading the pages as we go. This sort of belief is known as determinism; it’s the idea that all events are pre-determined by previous causes. Marcus Aurelius said:
“Whatever happens to you has been waiting to happen since the beginning of time. The twining strands of fate wove both of them together: your own existence and the things that happen to you.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
In a way, adopting a deterministic worldview feels a lot like taking a burden off your shoulders. Paradoxically, giving up control over external circumstances makes you feel more in control (of the internal ones).
A lot of people tend to blame themselves for the injustices that they’ve been subject to. However, even though you should aim at taking responsibility for as much of your life as you can, you should also realize that most things could never have been otherwise… and that’s okay. If you were born short, ugly or with bad skin… it’s okay. If you were raised in a dysfunctional family… it’s okay. If you recently lost a family member… it’s okay.
Is it ideal? No. Is it unfair? Maybe. The only thing we know for certain, though, is that it could not have been otherwise. From the very first second after the Big Bang to that horrible event you would give everything to change... it was all meant to happen. It's just Nature doing its thing.
“Don’t blame nature, she fulfilled her task; now, it is up to you to fulfill yours.”
John Milton
This is why you need to draw a line between what is up to you and what isn’t. The minute you start mixing the two—the minute you start projecting your judgement, values and imagination onto events completely outside of your control—things get dangerous.
Remind yourself of the dichotomy of control on a daily basis and perhaps one day you will be able to internalize the 2nd maxim of the Stoics:
Maxim #2: Realize nothing good or bad ever happens to you
You just got sick.
You have a headache, a slight fever and your nose is runny. You sift through your house looking for some aspirin, gather a couple extra blankets and crawl back into bed. Curled up like a burrito, you say to yourself “Thank God! Now I have the perfect excuse not to go to the gym today.”
Do you see where this is going?
At the heart of Stoic philosophy lies a shocking idea: everything that has ever happened to you—and everything that will ever happen to you—is neither good nor bad; all positive/negative attributes come from your own judgement. It was Epictetus who best put this into words when he said:
“Men are disturbed not by the things which happen, but by their opinions about them.”
Epictetus (Enchiridion)
This sentiment was echoed a millennium and a half later by William Shakespeare in his masterpiece Hamlet. There, he wrote:
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Shakespeare (Hamlet)
In the example we just went through, what is usually interpreted as a negative (getting sick) became a positive (skipping a workout). We don’t need to go much further than this example to realize how malleable interpretations are. Had the person behind the story been someone who really looks forward to working out (probably because he or she is aware of the incredible benefits behind it), then getting sick would have been interpreted as a negative once again.
In other words: getting sick is neither good nor bad. Similarly, anything that happens to you is like water, neutral in all of its aspects, and your judgement is like food colorant. You can taint the water red, green or whichever color you like… but it’s still going to be water.
The Stoics were notorious for adopting this mindset in their everyday lives. Zeno called it phantasia kataleptike (which apparently is an extremely difficult term to define, but that we can sum up with “objective representation”). Basically, one of their goals was to refrain themselves from adding judgement to reality. For that reason, the ideal Stoic (known as the Stoic Sage) would theoretically be capable of enduring the worst possible suffering with a smile on his or her face.
Consider the extreme example of Stilpo the Megarian, one of Zeno's early teachers.
Stilpo had a reputation for being wise and having a profound understanding of the nature of reality. One day, as he was travelling around the Hellenic hills, he received some terrifying news: his city had been burnt to ash by barbarians, all his property had been seized, and his wife and children had been murdered. Shortly after, Stilpo was seen taking a walk around the city and many people rushed to talk to him. When they asked him about the incident, Stilpo famously looked up towards them with a soft smile and said:
“I have lost nothing. I have all my goods with me.”
Stilpo the Megarian
(I understand this is an extreme example and that most of us would not want to emulate this sort of behavior—myself included. If you want to know why, make sure to check my very first article, where we try to find wisdom in bestial emotions, ecstasy, suffering and chaos.)
This behavior is partly a consequence of believing that reality has no moral value (as we will see in a bit, it is also partly due to Maxim #4). Sickness, accidents, death… these things are—by the very laws of Nature—amoral. They’re neutral. All interpretations of them come from us—because reality mirrors our morality. If you chose to stop yourself from projecting your morality onto the neutral objects of your life, you would suffer a lot less.
Now, I imagine by this point some of you have a couple of objections to make. Let’s start with the most technical one:
“If the Stoics believe in determinism, then why do they say we should stop ourselves from doing certain things? Aren’t they inevitable?”
You, objecting
This is a great point, and it would be totally valid if it weren’t for the fact that the Stoics weren’t technically deterministic. They were the first ones to defend a belief called compatibilism, which champions the idea that free will and determinism can coexist.
Compatibilists believe that human beings are still free to act according to their beliefs, motives and desires, even if they live in a deterministic world (think of it like us being a Sims character gone rogue). This was one of their major achievements in philosophy, and it has heavily influenced other great thinkers like Aquinas, Hobbes and Hume. Famous psychiatrist Viktor Frankl summarized this interplay beautifully when he said:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”
Viktor Frankl (Man's Search for Meaning)
Not only is this quote brilliant, it’s also the perfect gateway into objection numero dos:
“But we can’t always stop ourselves from either judging the world, or from having natural emotional reactions to events!”
You, objecting, again
You are killing it today because this is, frankly, a very good point again. I’m afraid in order to address it I’m gonna have to call my next witness to the stand…
Maxim #3: Take full responsibility for that which you can control
In ancient times, the Stoics asserted that, ultimately, there are three things which fall under your full control. To remind ourselves of that fact is to engage in what they called the Three Disciplines:
Discipline of Desire (orexis)
Discipline of Action (hormê)
Discipline of Judgement (sunkatathesis)
When it comes to first, the Stoics believed you are unhappy because you probably wish for things that are outside of your control (money, fame) rather than inside of it. The ultimate goal of this discipline is one that was famously shared by Nietzsche hundreds of years later: Amor Fati, a loving acceptance of one's fate. He said:
“My formula for greatness in a human being is Amor Fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backwards, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.”
Nietzsche (Ecce Homo)
Amor Fati does not mean you should become a passive character in your life. Not in the least. The passive thing to do would be to let your surroundings dictate your perceptions. Nietzsche and the Stoics are asking you to take the wheel in how you perceive whatever happens in your life. The goal is not to "be okay" or to "feel good" about whatever befalls upon you, but to love that it did. Because if it happened then it was meant to happen. Because it could not have been otherwise. The truth is, you are left with a very simple choice: are you going to cry about it? Or are you going to make the best of it?
For the second discipline, they believed everyone has a set of duties (kathekonta) to make the communities they live in prosper (such as your family, city or state). This discipline requires both constant action and constant acceptance. Obviously, the future of your country does not depend on you—individually—but the actions that you engage in to make it prosper or decay, do.
In this regard, the ultimate goal of the Stoics was to expand your desire for human flourishing to humanity at large, whilst also becoming outcome independent. In other words: do the absolute best you can to make your communities prosper, but know that the final result does not depend only on your actions.
Finally, the third discipline is that of assent, our ability to stop ourselves from tainting the objectivity of reality with our subjective judgement (what we discussed in Maxim #2). Its primary interest is to monitor and evaluate your own implicit value-judgements. According to Hadot, the ultimate goal of this discipline is being able to detect early-warning signs of irrational or upsetting judgements that would probably swing you into unhealthy behaviors (such as irritation or rage), and putting out the fire through the power of reason and objectivity before it even begins.
Now, you may have noticed that the disciplines did not include things like “your health” or “your body”, and that's for very good reason. Without getting into the contradictions between free will and consciousness here (maybe another time), it would be wise to assume that you are not your body. Consider this:
If your body suddenly decided to stop producing white blood cells, you would be the victim of its decision, not the perpetrator. Further, the more we have learned about neuroscience, neurophysiology and psychoanalysis, the more we have discovered that our brains are incredibly complex, and that our bodies and our unconscious determine much of what we feel, think or desire without our approval or even our awareness. It’s not like we think all of our emotions into existence not everything is logos.
It’s obvious, then, that the line between (a) things you can control and (b) things you cannot control is a little blurry. This is perhaps one of the faults that Epictetus’ Dichotomy of Control has. Thankfully, we can easily adjust it in two ways: first, by redefining it; then, by specifying it.
First things first. In his book A Guide to the Good Life, Professor of philosophy William B. Irvine states that viewing the world through a bifocal lens can be a little misleading, and he proposes a Trichotomy of Control as an alternative.
It’s very simple.
Just as before, there are things you can fully control and things you can’t even influence. However, he also recognizes there are some things over which you have partial control. Consider, he says, the example of a tennis match:
“This is not something over which I have complete control: No matter how much I practice and how hard I try, I might nevertheless lose a match. Nor is it something over which I have no control at all: Practicing a lot and trying hard may not guarantee that I will win, but they will certainly affect my chances of winning. My “winning at tennis” is therefore an example of something over which I have some control but not complete control.”
William B. Irvine (A Guide to the Good Life)
William B. Irvine then proposes that there are in fact three different things over which you have total and complete control (these are his “Three Disciplines”):
Your goals
Your values
Your character
For all other things, you either have partial control over them or none at all.
This is great news! After all, you don’t even need to spend that much time and effort into developing those three areas to build them beautifully… and yet, many of us don’t. Sure, we all know we should have goals (we might even be acquainted with fancy SMART goal acronyms and whatnot)—but how many of us do?
What are your goals, specifically? If you have some, why did you choose them? Do they align with your values? Do you even know what your values are?
I’m not trying to put anyone on the spot here, but these are not trivial questions.
Think about it: if you lost everything you “own” (all your friends, family, house, possessions, and even voice, sight or mobility) what would still be yours? Simple: the things you aim at, the things you hold in value and the actions that align yourself between the two (goals, values and character).
Nobody can take those away from you. So, rather than taking them for granted, take the time to really define them instead. Remember, they only depend on you, so you can actually do this pretty easily—the ROI on this is as good as it gets.
Now, as for the things we have partial control over, do you think a Stoic would just refrain from participating in them, become a passive vegetable and just let the pieces fall where they may? Of course not. The wise way to go about them is to adjust your perspective to have as much control as possible, and simply let the rest play out.
Take the example of the tennis match once more: if your goal is to win the tennis match, you will get emotionally disturbed if you lose it. That’s your fault: you chose to have that goal—and the Stoics would say it’s a stupid goal. But what if your goal was to play the match to the best of your ability? Aha, now that you can absolutely do.
By simply adjusting your perspective, you have managed to align your goal (i.e., playing the best you can) with your values (e.g., grit, effort) and your character (e.g., humility, diligence). Now, even if you lost the match, you would not be devastated. You could even be happy! Some would also argue that, because you are solely focused on your abilities, you actually have a better chance of winning the match anyway.
Maxim #4: Aim at Your Highest Self
Hopefully by now we are starting to paint a clearer picture of Stoic ethics. However, I’m afraid there is one giant elephant in the room that we have not addressed yet: virtue.
If you know a little about ancient philosophy, then you know most people back then were obsessed with living a virtuous life. Open up any random book of the Stoics and you will surely find either the word virtue or the expression to live in accordance with Nature written all over it. But what does any of this mean? What is virtue and how do we achieve it? How can we live in accordance with nature?
As you can imagine, this topic has a lot of depth to it, so I will do my best to keep it as short as possible.
First of all, whatever prior definition of virtue you have in your head… throw it in the garbage. As with many other ancient terms, the meaning of virtue has changed over the centuries. The original Greek word for it is aretê, and we think it was first coined by either Plato or Socrates.
In the simplest of terms, we can define virtue as excellence of being. In this sense, then, being virtuous means being an excellent human being. Professor Irvine gives, once again, a really good example to clarify this:
In the same way that a “virtuous” (or excellent) hammer is one that performs well the function for which it was designed—namely, to drive nails—a virtuous individual is one who performs well the function for which humans were designed. To be virtuous, then, is to live as we were designed to live.
William B. Irvine (A Guide to the Good Life)
Okay, that’s a good start. It raises two questions though: What life were we designed to live? And how can we live it?
Well, as we just touched on, the ancients believed we were meant to live a life in accordance with nature. Donald Robertson gives us a very helpful explanation as to what this means in his book How to Think Like a Roman Emperor: The Stoic Philosophy of Marcus Aurelius. He claims that we can best understand this concept in terms of a threefold structure.
Living in accordance with nature is living in harmony with three different layers: first, living at one with your own nature, as a rational human being; then, living at one with other people, as a community; finally, living at one with fate, without complaint, fear or crave.
This puts together the pieces of the puzzle we have previously laid out. What I love about Robertson’s threefold structure is that it incidentally lines up with Irvine’s Trichotomy:
Being in harmony with yourself means taking full responsibility for the things you can control and pushing them towards your development as an individual; being in harmony with your community means taking your interpersonal duties seriously—even if the end result doesn’t entirely depend upon yourself—and helping your family, neighborhood and state prosper; finally, being in harmony with fate means being at peace with whatever the universe throws your way—since you know it could not have been otherwise.
In a nutshell:
Harmony with the self ↔ Mastering what you can control
Harmony with other people ↔ Doing your best with things you have partial control over
Harmony with fate ↔ Regarding what you cannot control as indifferent
Beautiful. Let’s talk about virtue now. Consider this elegant quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
These words, as Professor Michael Sugrue points out in his lecture on Marcus Aurelius, “might well have been stolen from one of the Stoics”.
The Professor then goes on to define a virtuous individual as an organized soul which pursues—through his innate capacity for reason—the ends that are good for all human beings. A virtuous individual knows deep inside that excellence of being trumps all other things in life—even life itself. Just as Roman Stoic Cato the Younger put his own life on the line in his pursuit of moral virtue during the death of the Roman republic, we too should spare no means in our pursuit of good.
Okay cool, so is everything justified then? Can we do anything in our pursuit of good? Well, no; as you can imagine, there are certain rules. In order to define them, the Stoics resorted to the works of Plato.
Plato was the first one to put forth the famous Four Cardinal Virtues and, for the ancients, anyone who followed them was a badass and praiseworthy individual. The Stoics were no exception. Ancient philosophers believed that the pursuit of virtue was truly the only thing that mattered. To them, it did not matter how rich or influential you were, what mattered was your character. And remember how we said character is something you have complete control over? Well, for that same reason, anyone with the right approach could become virtuous.
You can think of the Cardinal Virtues as a Greek code of honor, each of them being essential in the search for human perfection:
Wisdom (phronêsis): Love Truth, seek practical wisdom and be honest with yourself and others.
Justice (dikaiosunê): Act righteously, with fairness and kindness towards those around you.
Courage (andreia): Master your fears to never let them dwarf your fortitude.
Temperance (sôphrosunê): Control your desires and live a life of self-discipline.
Living a life that embodied these cardinal virtues meant turning your very existence into art. Not only did it help make our world more beautiful, it also required—like any craft—constant learning, adjustments and humility.
The Four Cardinal Virtues are, according to the Stoics, something every single human being should try to embody. They are part and parcel of the best and most honorable character everyone can bring to life in themselves. Most importantly, they pave the way to the highest form of life possible: eudaimonia, the state of supreme happiness or supreme human flourishing that is trademark of a life well lived.
It was this same path that men like Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus took two thousand years ago, and it’s the one they confidently recommend for us to walk in our day too:
“If, at some point in your life, you should come across anything better than justice, wisdom, temperance, courage—than a mind satisfied that it has succeeded in enabling you to act rationally, and satisfied to accept what’s beyond its control—if you find anything better than that, embrace it without reservations—it must be an extraordinary thing indeed—and enjoy it to the full.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
Part II - Practice
Acta, non verba
It's time for action.
It should be no secret by now that Stoic practices can significantly impact your life for the better. In our previous article, we covered the golden tidbits hidden behind Stoic ethics; in this one, we're going to put them to work.
Below you will find a list of Stoic exercises that have been adapted to suit the needs of the modern individual. Some come directly from the Stoics, others from psychology, psychoanalysis or even physiology. Each exercise comes with an in-depth explanation of its logic and a separate section with ideas on how to implement it.
Even if you have heard about some of these before, I invite you to read about them anyway; not only will the added repetition solidify your understanding, I also hope I will be able to provide (somewhat of) a different angle on them. You will be the judge.
Without further ado, let's begin.
I. Premeditatio Malorum
We will begin with the most famous exercise of all.
If you follow @projectimpero on Instagram, chances are you’ve already heard of this practice before. Let’s go over it once more in more detail.
Premeditatio Malorum is Latin for “premeditation of evils” or “premeditation of the troubles to come.” As the name implies, it’s an exercise that requires you to think about what could go wrong before it happens. The Stoics loved it, and it was one of the main tools in their arsenal. The legendary statesman Seneca described the practice as follows:
“What is unlooked for is more crushing in its effect, and unexpectedness adds to the weight of a disaster. This is a reason for ensuring that nothing ever takes us by surprise. We should project our thoughts ahead of us at every turn and have in mind every possible eventuality instead of only the usual course of event. Rehearse them in your mind: exile, torture, war, shipwreck. All the terms of our human lot should be before our eyes.”
Seneca (Letters from a Stoic)
This practice is particularly powerful for three reasons.
The first one is the most obvious: thinking about what could go wrong helps you prepare in advance. Whether you’re working on a project at work, or you are planning a trip with your family, you should try sitting down and seriously considering how it could go astray. Learning to map out scenarios in your mind—as well as your possible responses to them—is most of what good strategy is about. As the old saying goes…
“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”
Benjamin Franklin
The second has to do with mental toughness.
It does not matter how much you try to prevent some things from happening—many will probably happen anyway. Here is where Premeditatio Malorum starts becoming particularly powerful.
Even if the very worst happened, a practicing Stoic would have already lessened the negative impact of the event by having previously considered it. He or she will be tougher—and, consequently, more dependable—than those who haven’t taken the time to think this through.
In this sense, negative visualization has a similar function nightmares do. Some evolutionary scientists believe nightmares have been crucial for human development because they pre-exposed us to fears and anxieties that could otherwise have been paralyzing—and thus, deadly.
Your brain has a hard time distinguishing between imagination and reality, which is one of the reasons why anxiety is such a common psychic predator. Anxious or not, what's clear is seriously considering a worst-case scenario will soften the emotional toll it takes on you.
Last, though most definitely not least, is the fact that negative visualization can make you significantly happier by promoting your capacity to be grateful.
We humans are largely insatiable and tend to start taking things for granted very quickly. In psychology, this phenomenon is known as hedonic adaptation, and it’s described as the “observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive events or life changes.”
In other words: our expectations tend to rise to our current situation (e.g., you bought a new phone, you were ecstatic for like a month, and then you started to take it for granted… or even wishing for a better one).
But hedonic adaptation does not only concern products—its effects are even more dangerous when we talk about relationships.
How many of us take our most precious relationships for granted? Your family, partner and friends… have you assumed they will always be here with you? And have you glanced over all their good attributes and started focusing on their flaws instead? When was the last time you told them you love them?
“Most of us are “living the dream”—living, that is, the dream we once had for ourselves. We might be married to the person we once dreamed of marrying, have the children and job we once dreamed of having, and own the car we once dreamed of buying. But thanks to hedonic adaptation, as soon as we find ourselves living the life of our dreams, we start taking that life for granted. Instead of spending our days enjoying our good fortune, we spend them forming and pursuing new, grander dreams for ourselves. As a result, we are never satisfied with our life. Negative visualization can help us avoid this fate.”
William B. Irvine, The Good Life
A regular practice of Premeditatio Malorum will make sure you (1) are more prepared to tackle the unexpected, (2) better deal with worst-case scenarios and (3) stop hedonic adaptation right on its tracks without inhibiting your ambition.
Implementation
You can either integrate this practice into your life in small bursts, and/or actually allocate specific times in which to practice it (e.g., a few times a week). The first method values frequency more than intensity; the latter does the opposite.
For instance, a man practicing the first method could consider that, whenever he kisses his wife goodbye, it might be the last time he ever sees her. He is not supposed to sit with the thought and actually dive into it, but just to simply contemplate for a second that this is a possibility—because it is. Not only will this make the kiss be more genuine and deliberate, it will also make sure he finds a deeper joy in seeing his wife again later that day—something which he usually takes for granted.
This, in turn, will push them towards spending more quality time together; perhaps he will buy her flowers for no particular reason, or they will decide to finally go see that theater play they’ve been putting off. And even if his worst fear came true (i.e., that kiss was actually the last one he gave to his wife) he could at least find some comfort in knowing that he made the best out of the time they had together, and will be less crushed by the unexpectedness of it all.
The second method is a little more intense. I’ll give a personal example for this one.
Around a year ago, I found myself being disturbed by terrifying thoughts throughout the day. More specifically, I was being haunted by the thought of my father dying. Every time it popped into my head, I pushed the thought aside by distracting myself with something else.
Alas, as you can imagine, it did not take long until the fear started knocking on my door again. This occurred again and again, for days on end, and it was starting to make me very anxious. Eventually, I got tired of looking away and decided it was time I welcomed the thought, sat down with it and talked to it face to face.
So, I did just that.
I went to my bedroom, turned off the lights, laid on my bed and made the effort to imagine—as vividly as I could—that specific scenario taking place. I considered every detail: the death itself, the reaction of my family, the funeral, the speeches, the silence, the grief… everything. It did not take long until I started feeling genuinely sad and felt a strong desire to stop. But rather than yielding to it, I dove deeper into the sensation and, soon enough, started crying like a baby.
It did not take long for me to realize that those tears did not come from anxiousness, anxiety or despair; they came as a manifestation of a deep-rooted love, care and respect for my father. By willingly switching the script and visualizing my nightmare, I went from its victim to its adversary and—eventually—to its friend.
And just like that, the haunting fear gave me a well-deserved break.
II. Phantasia Kataleptike
Have you ever considered how utterly absurd everything is?
Right now, at this very moment, I am sitting on what’s basically a bunch of chopped up trees, pressing square buttons made of hardened oil derived from a bizarre viscous mineral found deep underground. An infinitely-complex cluster of neural connections stored inside my skull is sending electrical signals to my fingertips, causing them to spasm and press individual buttons with weird symbols on them—symbols we all unknowingly agreed to be individual units of a written communication system we somehow invented. To top it off, all of this is happening because I arbitrarily decided that, when the giant floating rock that I am living on reached a specific point and rotation relative to the gargantuan gamma-ray radiating sphere of hot plasma around which it circles within a seemingly infinite and ever-expanding vacuum called space, it was “time” for me to “sit down” and “write.”
We have all experienced moments in which we realized existence made no sense. For brief burst of time, we understood that all of human history is made up of people just like yourself, acting and pretending like everything has a meaning. This overwhelming realization was famously described by Jean-Paul Sartre as nausea in his book by the same name. Although it is not inherently bad, it is certainly true that anyone with a sound mind wants to avoid living a nauseous life, and should therefore work on developing a personal system of values.
However, rather than wanting to dive into existentialist philosophy here, I decided to use Sartre’s example to help understand the Stoic practice of phantasia kataleptike, or “objective representation.”
The Stoics were great at periodically using the absurdity of existence to their advantage. Every now and then, they decided to describe the things they were attached to in great detail, as objectively as possible. By doing this, they were able to put even the most appealing items into perspective—and consequently detach themselves from their gripping influence.
Here is Marcus Aurelius on how a Stoic should remember to perceive lavish dinners:
“When we have meat before us and other food, we must say to ourselves: “This is the dead body of a fish, and this is the dead body of a bird or of a pig, and again, this [wine] is only a little grape juice, and this purple robe some sheep’s wool died with the blood of a shellfish” … so that we see what kinds of things they are. This is how we should act throughout life: where there are things that seem worthy of great estimation, we ought to lay them bare and look at their true worth and strip them of all the words by which they are exalted.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
These words were written by a man who lived trapped among absolute luxury. He was, after all, the most powerful man on Earth at the time. But rather than mindlessly indulging in every pleasure he had access to, he had the fortitude to remember that most things are just that… things.
By consciously working to make objective descriptions of the luxuries that surrounded him, he quickly realized that they had a lot less power over him than he first thought. Marcus was deeply aware of the power that comfort and affluence have over us, but used the sheer absurdity of it all to his advantage and became a stronger man because of it.
“Even in a palace, life can be well lived.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
Implementation
Ask yourself: which things that I own—or wish to own—have power over me?
Perhaps it’s that fancy pair of shoes, a brand-new convertible, a fountain pen or a particular food. Whatever it is, realize which external items have power over you and do your best to describe them as objectively as possible. This is particularly useful when dealing with things you want, but know you shouldn’t.
Let’s face it: we don’t need to buy most of what we indulge in. You already have too many t-shirts piled up in your closet. You already have a myriad of forgotten videogames stored on your shelf and in your console. You already have a perfectly working smartphone.
Once you have identified a few target items, you can implement the practice of objective representation just like you did with the negative visualization. At random times throughout your week, take a second to consider how silly and absurd some things are. Alternatively, try sitting down with pen and paper and really facing a particular aspect or item you would like to perceive differently.
This will give you some perspective and, paradoxically, allow you to squeeze more out of life: because by valuing luxurious things a lot more than the rest—even when they genuinely don’t deserve it—you are indirectly de-valuing all those similar things that stand below it.
Those sneakers you are dying to buy? They’re actually just a pair of overpriced (and oversized) clumps of cheap fabric in which you’ll stick your sweaty feet to drag them around dirty streets as you secretly crave mildly impressing people you don’t even know and use their fleeting validation to suppress the growing cognitive dissonance that’s tainting your spirit from knowing you are parading yourself like a copy-pasted mannequin who’s actually wearing a regular pair of shoes on which an underpaid, alienated and borderline-suicidal Chinese teenager sewed a corporate logo.
I went a bit too far, but you get the idea.
Let me make something clear though: If you have a genuine passion for any of these things (i.e., you care about their craft, history, recent developments, etc.) then there is no real problem at play here.
However, if the reason why you are indulging in them is because you are letting the ever-present opiate of consumer culture dictate your needs and distract yourself from facing the meaninglessness of your existence, you could benefit a lot from this exercise.
Phantasia kataleptike is not supposed to make you hate the things you own, just as it is not supposed to make you love them. The goal here is to, every now and then, try to view things as they are by stripping them of all the vacuous sugar-coating that surrounds them. It is merely a healthy dose of perspective.
III. View from Above
Continuing with our theme of thinking of things from a different angle comes one of the most calming Stoic exercises: the view from above.
This meditation exercise is particularly useful to those of you who tend to be quite anxious and/or have sporadic anxiety attacks. I’ll let Marcus explain this first:
“You can rid yourself of many useless things among those that disturb you, for they lie entirely in your imagination; and you will then gain for yourself ample space by comprehending the whole universe in your mind, and by contemplating the eternity of time, and observing the rapid change of every part of everything, how short is the time from birth to dissolution, and the illimitable time before birth as well as the equally boundless time after dissolution.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
Okay, Marcus, that’s a little deep—but you do have a point.
The Stoics were Cosmopolitans. No, I don’t mean this in the cocktail sense, nor in the “The 55 Most Bubblelicious Butts on Instagram” kind of way (God save us).
In philosophy, Cosmopolitanism is the belief that all citizens—regardless of their political beliefs—belong to a single community. The Stoics in particular thought that the universe (kosmos) should be thought of as a unified city (polis) ruled under the laws of nature and reason.
The view from above takes this theoretical concept and puts it to work. During this visualization exercise, you are supposed to imagine yourself in third person and slowly zoom out from above (hence the name) until you are able to fully contemplate the scale of the universe and the rather insignificant size of your problems within it. Let’s go through an example together.
Implementation
Here is a brief representation of how a view from above session could look like. Remember that you could (and should) carry this exercise with much more scrutiny; I’m just giving you a taste here.
Whenever you feel anxious, frustrated or overwhelmed, sit down comfortably on a chair and begin by taking a few deep breaths. Feel the air fill up your lungs and then softly escape through your nose. Allow yourself to become aware of the physical sensations that manifest through your body. Perhaps your neck is a little sore, or your leg a little itchy. Whatever it is, try not to judge it, change it nor ignore it. Just be aware of it.
Now, close your eyes and breathe naturally again. Then, slowly begin by picturing yourself from a third person perspective. Just as if you were someone lazily walking around you, try to imagine everything you would see. What does your facial expression look like? What color are your clothes? What posture are you in? If you can’t picture yourself vividly, it’s okay—just try to do it anyway.
Once you have a better sense of your scale and position, it’s time for you to start zooming out. Imagine watching yourself from above, in great detail. You can see the top of your head, the chair you are sitting on and the floor that surrounds you. Then, slowly pull that view backwards, as if you were zooming out a celestial camera that stands right above you. You start seeing your room and all the furniture within it. You notice where your table is and how close it stands next to your bed. You notice the pattern on your floor and the texture of the rug that lays above it.
You keep gently pulling backwards. Now you see your house or flat in its entirety. You see how the rooms are distributed, where the kitchen is and how the bathroom looks. As you slowly zoom out more, you observe the entirety of your surrounding area. People walk around on cobblestone streets. Cars wait (im)patiently for a red light. Cyclists... cycle.
You continue to move upwards, and people soon become small as ants. You start to see the shape of your neighborhood, with its complex street layout in which hundreds of people interact every single hour. Then you can discern the entirety of your city, those surrounding it and, soon enough, the borders of your country—perhaps surrounded by blue water, forests or neighboring deserts.
You don’t stop there; you keep rising up. Eventually, you are able to appreciate the entirety of planet Earth, filled with imposing oceans and vast portions of land rising above them. You notice the constant movement of the clouds that dance around its curves. You see the sheer brightness of the polar caps reflecting the solar rays that bathe half of our planet.
An overwhelming sense of grandeur starts to rise within you, and you start to put things into perspective.
You realize that almost 8 billion people live on this planet, and that they communicate using more than 7.000 unique languages. You learn that a new-born baby comes crying into the world every quarter of a second. You realize that this same baby, like yourself, descends from a single common ancestor that lived 200.000 years ago, and that over 180 billion people have walked across our Earth ever since: each with their individual dreams, fears, worries and anxieties—but each no different than yours.
I think that’s enough for you to get a sense for it.
Trust me, we could keep going.
Anyone practicing this exercise could zoom out more and put even those incredible figures themselves into perspective (like, for example, how the universe is almost 14 billion years old, and we have been a part of it for 0.001% of that). To be fair, though, you don’t even need to know about these figures to realize how powerful this exercise is. Simply contemplating the scale of your existence can give you a sense of how ultimately tiny even your biggest problems are.
Seriously, give it a go.
IV. Daily Discomfort
Here’s a question: what would you say the opposite of fragile is? Most people answer by listing words like robust, strong, durable or tough.
These are all wrong.
Imagine you were sending two packages to your cousin in Siberia. Package A contains wine glasses and package B contains titanium ingots.
After packing them in, you proceed to write something like “Fragile: handle with care” on the outside of package A, to help protect your precious wine glasses during the trip. When it comes to package B, however, you don’t feel the need to write down any warning, because you know the contents are very robust, so they’ll probably survive the journey just fine.
Here’s where the problem becomes evident. Something fragile is something that breaks down with external stress (package A); but the opposite of that is not something that can absorb it just fine (package B). The exact opposite would be something that benefits from external stress and becomes stronger because of it.
If you had some magic wine glasses that were the opposite of fragile, you would want them to be mishandled as much as possible—because the more external stress they received, the stronger they would actually become.
This enlightening example is given to us by philosopher and professor of risk engineering Nassim Taleb in his book Antifragile. In it, he points out that not a single dictionary on Earth has got this distinction right, because we don’t even have a name for that concept to begin with (hence him having to coin the term).
If we placed these concepts on a scale with regards to how they respond to external stress stimuli, we would put fragile as negative, robust as neutral and antifragile as positive.
Later in the book, Nassim describes that ancient Mediterranean civilizations (e.g., the Greek, the Romans) were much more antifragile in their way of thinking, and that the most antifragile of all—that is, those that were able to become the strongest thanks to external stressors—were probably the Stoics. Consider this famous phrase by Marcus Aurelius:
“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
This represents a purely antifragile mindset. No matter what obstacle the Stoics faced, they were able to emerge out of them stronger than before. They didn’t just endure hardship, they became better because of it—just like the mythical creature Hydra, that grew two heads for every one that got cut-off.
This idea is echoed in other philosophers like Friedrich Nietzsche, who famously said that “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” It is also, perhaps unsurprisingly, rooted in biology.
Let me explain.
In many ways, your body is antifragile—and, in many ways, you already know this to be true. Let’s say I came to you asking for advice on how to gain muscle mass. What would you recommend I do? I’m guessing you’d tell me to perform some sort of resistance training (e.g., lifting weights or bodyweight exercise). But why would this cause me to gain muscle?
Most people know that, when (weight) training, you are basically damaging your muscles, and that your body is able to recover and grow stronger because of this external stress. Doesn’t this ring a bell? Hypertrophy—that is, the process of building muscle—is a perfect example of antifragility (it also applies to other things like your bones, by the way, but we won’t get into that now).
Quick sidenote: story time.
It wasn’t until I lived in China that I realized the true implications of biological antifragility. One of the things that shocked me the most whilst being there—besides how delicious 生煎包 are—was the fact that many elders were in killer shape. You barely saw them walking around with canes, let alone in wheelchairs. Instead, you often saw them at the parks doing group dancing activities, fast-pace walking and even bodyweight training.
I used to train calisthenics there with some friends and, every single day, between 18:00 and 19:00, a group of around 5 old men joined our sessions. The youngest of them was 60 years old and he was better at doing pull-ups than most people I know.
Because they moved so much, because they used their muscles so often and because they avoided comfort, they were much stronger than most Western elderly people. Here in Europe, we unknowingly inhibit antifragility through comfort. Most people spend their time sitting down and develop pains in their hips, knees and lower back. So, what do they do? They sit down and rest more. But the more they sit down, the worse their pains get; and the worse their pains get, the more they sit down.
It’s an endless cycle.
The paradox of antifragility is beautifully summed up by a quote Ido Portal (a famous training and movement enthusiast) brought up during an interview in which they asked him about what sort of shoes people should wear; he simply said:
“High-tech shoes; low-tech feet.”
Ido Portal
Implementation
By this point I imagine you might be wondering: “okay, this is fairly interesting, but what do I do with it?”
Well, now that we have established that you are actually antifragile and that comfort can be poisoning, we can actually start having fun… or rather, the very opposite. It’s time to suffer a little bit.
The exercise of Daily Discomfort is more a rule than a specific practice. Here’s the bottom line: every single day, you must do at least one thing that causes discomfort. It is precisely now, today, when things are going well and you have the time to stop and read this article, that you will benefit from doing this the most. As Seneca said:
“It is precisely in times of immunity from care that the soul should toughen itself beforehand for occasions of greater stress, and it is while Fortune is kind that it should fortify itself against her violence. […] If you would not have a man flinch when the crisis comes, train him before it comes.”
Seneca (Moral Letters to Lucilius)
Here are four ways (actually, many more) through which you can cultivate your antifragility. Some of these are just too juicy for me to explain them in detail now, so I will be brief.
Let’s start with one of my (least) favorite ways to do this: cold exposure. Even though the practice has become increasingly trendy nowadays, cold baths/showers have been around for centuries. The Finnish have a tradition known as avantouinti (winter swimming); Spartans thought that hot water was for weak people; Athenians and Romans took really cold plunges in public baths; Russians… well, did Russian things.
The benefits of cold showers are clear: they strengthen your immune system, improve circulation, increase fertility in men, improve your metabolism and help you burn more fat, keep your skin and hair healthy and have even been shown to help combat depression. Most importantly, though, they suck—which is precisely why you should take them.
Another type of stressor that can have profound benefits on your physical and mental health is fasting. The practice of Intermittent Fasting (IF) has also become quite popular nowadays, but the origins of fasting date back to pre-Biblical times. Plato said he fasted for greater physical and mental efficiency and Plutarch said that fasting was often better than medicine. Nowadays, however, you often hear that you should eat many times a day, and that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Fasting, of any sort, is a stressor to your body. This can be bad or it can be good. An intelligent practice of fasting will increase energy levels, mental clarity, fat burning and cellular repair; it will also reduce risk of diabetes, cancer, chronic inflammation, Alzheimer’s disease… should I go on? Additionally, just like with cold showers, fasting sucks—I’d much rather eat. Alas, it is precisely in a world of overwhelming comfort and abundance where practicing discomfort can truly make a difference.
Further, as we previously touched on, exercise is one of the most effective ways to foster your antifragility. Exercise is technically absurd. Why would you go on a run and suffer when you could stay indoors? Why would you want to feel like your head is about to burst when deadlifting? Why would you go to a martial arts class to get your ass kicked? We all intuitively know the answer to these questions: because it makes you better.
Stressing your muscles makes them tougher; stressing your heart makes it stronger; stressing your joints and bones makes them more resilient. If you’re not working out in one way or another, look for a practice that you find particularly enjoyable. If you’re already working out, shake things up with even more discomfort: try going on a run when it’s cold or when it’s raining—precisely because it’s harder.
A fourth way to increase your resilience through hardship is to incite criticism and social awkwardness. Cato the Younger—one of the most famous Roman Stoics—would sometimes wear ridiculous clothes in public (e.g., a tunic of a very distasteful color) in order to strengthen his ability to handle criticism of superficial things. Bestselling author Tim Ferris says he sometimes walked around uber-liberal San Francisco wearing a cowboy hat, or around uber-conservative Utah wearing flamboyant floral-pattern party pants.
Just like Cato, he was deliberately setting himself up for ridicule and criticism, and whilst in the midst of it, he would ask himself what Seneca wrote two thousand years ago: “is this the condition that I so feared?” There are many ways in which you could take advantage of criticism. I've heard people swear they've overcome social anxiety by simply laying down on the floor at a Starbucks or in front of the subway. Others recommend for you to sing in public. Little things like these that would make you cringe beyond control are, once again, the ones you should do the most.
Finally, consider all the small tweaks you can implement into your life to leverage antifragility. Learning a new skill often makes us feel very incompetent—which is why we should do it. Passing up on a nice glass of wine or some sweet pastries, for no real reason, is much harder than indulging in them—which is why we should do it. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator requires a lot more effort—which is why we should do it.
Take some time to think about all the small little changes that you can integrate into your life so as to make things just a tiny bit harder (every now and then).
Practicing Daily Discomfort is by far the most effective way to increase your mental toughness. There is simply no way a person that willingly goes through these practices will not become tougher, more respectable and a lot more Stoic over time. If things are going particularly well in your life, then you would be wise to engage in as many of these as possible. As the old saying goes: “the more you sweat in times of peace, the less you bleed in times of war."
V. Practicing Poverty
At the young age of 28, a recent physics and economics graduate was determined to change the world; he had big plans for his career and was ready to help shape the future of humanity through the power of technology. However, he also knew that the life of entrepreneurship was extremely difficult and could drown even the brightest innovators in debt.
So, in order to kick-start his journey, he decided to run a little experiment. For an entire month, the young man lived on a budget of only $30 USD for food and minimized all other expenses. He survived buying hot-dogs and oranges in bulk, and every now and then indulged in the luxury of a plate of pasta with tomato sauce. Once the 30 days were finished, he reflected on the experiment and said that, if he could live for a dollar a day for food, he would be okay no matter what.
That man was Elon Musk.
Groundbreaking, right? Well, the practice of poverty has been around for centuries. What makes the Stoics so unique in their approach to it, however, is that they never did it because they believed it was sinful to enjoy luxuries (like a Christian priest might have). Just like Elon Musk did, the Stoics viewed this practice as a way to prepare themselves against the uncertainty of the future (yes, this is a recurring theme).
Here’s Seneca describing this particular exercise to a friend of his:
Do you think that there can be fullness on [living on less than a penny]? Yes, and there is pleasure also – not that shifty and fleeting pleasure which needs a fillip now and then, but a pleasure that is steadfast and sure. For though water, barley-meal, and crusts of barley-bread, are not a cheerful diet, yet it is the highest kind of pleasure to be able to derive pleasure from this sort of food, and to have reduced one's needs to that modicum which no unfairness of Fortune can snatch away. Even prison fare is more generous; and those who have been set apart for capital punishment are not so meanly fed by the man who is to execute them. Therefore, what a noble soul must one have, to descend of one's own free will to a diet which even those who have been sentenced to death have not to fear! This is indeed forestalling the spear-thrusts of Fortune.”
Seneca (Moral Letters to Lucilius)
The idea of Fortuna is ever-present in Stoic philosophy. We might think of it as “fate” or “luck”. The Stoics believed each and every one of us is currently borrowing from Fortune all the things that we enjoy, and that it might knock on our door to get them back soon. Practicing poverty is a great way of countering that; it also has some other benefits.
First of all, willingly practicing poverty is the perfect way to, well, save money. Rather than framing your goal as “I need to stop spending so much money” consider switching it to something more like “I’m going to practice poverty when it comes to X or Y”—this way you’ll be framing a boring burden into a motivating challenge.
Secondly, as Seneca points out in his letter, it will also help you become more grateful for your regular non-poor meals (yes, this is also a recurring theme).
Finally, from a neuroscientific perspective, lowering your dopamine levels will help you reset your dopaminergic basal activation level to a more sensitive one. In other words: it will make coming back to non-poor habits feel better than ever.
“There is a noble manner of being poor, and who does not know it will never be rich.”
Seneca
Implementation
You can get pretty creative with this: forcing yourself to use public transport instead of driving/taxi/uber; switching to cheaper household products for a while; dressing in simpler and cheaper clothes; turning off your heating for a week, sleeping on the floor instead of your bed… you name it.
If you’re looking for a bigger challenge you could even try sleeping at your local shelter for a weekend [edit: having discussed this with other people, this particular example might not be a a great idea. If you decide to do it, make sure you are not denying resources to any of the residents; similarly, consider making a donation to both compensate for your trouble and help their charitable services prosper] or live one night as a homeless person (sounds hardcore, but it’s actually not that uncommon among people who enjoy backpacking).
The most obvious and straightforward way to willingly practice poverty, however, is by deciding to eat plain food for a certain period of time. Perhaps you could eat rice and beans for a whole week/month or save up all the extra money you spend on pastries and sugary goodies. Or both.
If you want to go full ancient Greece style, you could even prepare a “mouth-watering” melas zomos, also known as “black broth.” This particular dish was a staple of the Spartan diet and it was made by mixing (get ready) boiled pigs' legs, blood, salt and vinegar. Spartan soldiers (which by the way were actually quite well-off) ate this day-in and day-out. According to legend, a man from a city called Sybaris, famous for its absolute luxury and gluttony (which is where the term sybarite comes from) once tasted the Spartan black broth and famously said:
"Now I know why the Spartans do not fear death."
An absolute wussy
I’m kidding—sort of.
You don’t have to go that far, but this goes to show how closely related (1) being someone with absolute mental toughness and resiliency and (2) willingly and regularly going through discomfort actually are.
VI. Morning Pages
This particular exercise is one of my favorites. I discovered it in a period of my life during which I became particularly obsessed with wanting to complain less. Even though it is not a Stoic exercise per se, I thought it fitted the Stoic theme very nicely. After all, Stoicism is the anti-complaining philosophy par excellence. I seriously considered making a fifth maxim in our previous Stoicism article that said “Stop Complaining”, and I would have if it weren’t because the whole thing was arguably too long already. On the bright side, we get to talk about it here. Our friend Marcus once said:
“Everything that happens is either endurable or not. If it’s endurable, then endure it. Stop complaining. If it’s unendurable… then stop complaining. Your destruction will mean its end as well.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
If you can endure it, stop complaining.
If you can’t endure it, stop complaining.
It’s that simple.
Even though we should not be quick to judge those around us based simply on what they say, I know I’m not alone in thinking that excessive complaints truly speak of one’s character. Nothing screams “I am weak” and “I am a victim” as much as excessive complaining does.
It is true that, on certain occasions, complaints can be quite cathartic, comedic, or even revelatory (e.g., some protests). That’s fine. For all other instances, though, complaining really is a waste of energy. It’s sophisticated crying. It’s a marker for meekness, resentment, entitlement and, worst of all, self-pity.
Wait… did I just complain?
The exercise of Morning Pages was put forth by the delightful and multidisciplinary writer Julia Cameron in her book The Artist’s Way. You can watch a short video of her explaining the practice here. She explains that the exercise should be called Mourning Pages (with the extra “u”) because it’s a writing exercise that will represent...
“a farewell to life as you knew it; and an introduction to life as it’s going to be.”
Julia B. Cameron
The exercise is very simple, but it has profound implications. Basically, you are supposed to sit down for a few minutes every morning and unload the petty, whiny, constant chatter of your mind onto a page—without thinking too much.
You simply grab pen and paper and write whatever is on your mind. It doesn’t have to be artsy; it doesn’t have to be well-written; it doesn’t even have to make sense. In fact, the less artsy, well-written and structured it is—the better.
The benefits of this exercise are threefold. First, it will quieten your mind. Julia explains that it’s as though you had vacuumed the corners of your consciousness with a dust buster.
This newfound mental silence will, in turn, allow you to become more creative (that’s the reason why she came up with the exercise in the first place).
Finally, it will also allow you to become acquainted with the dark parts of your psyche. As Julia explains:
“Think of it in Jungian terms: you are meeting your shadow and taking it out for a cup of coffee. When you put the negativity on the page, it isn’t eddying through your consciousness during the day.”
Julia B. Cameron
Implementation
Remember how we just said that complaining sucks? Well, we are about to become total hypocrites here, because the exercise of Morning Pages pretty much consists in whining as much as possible.
Every morning after waking up, instead of grabbing a trendy Gratefulness Journal or reciting affirmations, you are going to grab your Petty Journal. Then, your only goal will be to pour 3 (A4) pages of thoughtless writing onto the page (~750 words). It’s important that you do not think too much, for that will cut the stream of cloudy consciousness that we are trying to run dry.
Here’s an example of what a Mourning Pages paragraph might look like:
“Good morning. I say “good” because of habit, but to be honest right now I feel pretty damn bad. I’m tired, my eyes are puffy and my shoulder hurts. I must have slept funny. I can’t wait to brew a nice cup of coffee. Isn’t it sad that I need a specific fuel to get me to work? I’m basically a car. Also, I can’t forget about that stupid appointment with a client that I have tonight. I swear, every time we meet to discuss business over dinner I just want to mush his face onto the bowl of pasta. I don’t know what it is about him. Maybe it's the fake vibe he displays (and which, clearly, I am exhibiting too), but there’s something about his face that’s just begging to be imprinted on a plate of spaghetti. Who the hell came up with that term anyway? Spaghetti—such a bizarre name. I actually think that the singular for it is spaghetto. So like, one single strand of spaghetti is called a spaghetto. Does that mean that a single confetti is a confetto? This exercise is so stupid.”
What’s beautiful about doing this practice in the morning is that it will empty your “complaining quota” for the rest of the day. Once you reach those 3 pages of writing and close your diary, it’s over. You’ve already whined, you’ve already been annoying on paper. You’ve probably said things you don’t actually mean—and that’s perfectly fine.
Personally, I notice that whenever I write down Mourning Pages, they always end up on a good note. I complain at first, but then I slowly (and unconsciously) drift towards “what can I do about this?” and end up with quite a bit of motivation to tackle my day. What starts as a whiny temper tantrum slowly turns into an action plan.
Have you ever noticed how kids are able to fall down and cry in absolute despair, only to get up and keep playing a few seconds later? This type of emotional discharge is what we are trying to achieve here. Doing this practice regularly will slowly but surely silence your “monkey mind”, so that deeper and more profound patterns of thought become available to you—and a less unreasonably-whiny version of yourself becomes available to everyone else.
VII. Stoic Silence
I know, I know. It’s very easy for me to tell you all about silence when I’ve been rambling about for about a billion words. In all seriousness, I thought it would be a good idea to end the list of exercises with one that tells me to shut up a bit.
This idea is far from being only Stoic, but it was particularly revered by the ancients. It’s also not uncommon to find the expression “stoic silence” in the English language. We tend to think of exercises as an active process, but some inactive ones like keeping quiet can be just as challenging and rewarding. Marcus Aurelius once wrote:
“Be silent for the most part, or, if you speak, say only what is necessary and in a few words. Talk, but rarely, if occasion calls you, but do not talk of ordinary things –of gladiators or horses races or athletes or of meats or drinks– these are topics that arise everywhere. But above all, do not talk about men in blame or compliment or comparison.”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
For those of you who have met me (friends and family), you know I struggle to find a balance with this. In social situations, I’m either very silent or I don’t shut the hell up. If the topic of conversation really interests me, or if I have the chance of teaching/explaining a particular topic (one of my biggest passions), then I often find myself talking too much and even diluting the message I was trying to convey. If you can recognize yourself in the above, then this exercise is also for you. We’re in this together, my talkative friend.
In the legendary book The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene’s law #4 is “Always say less than necessary”. He provides this short explanatory paragraph with it:
“When you are trying to impress people with words, the more you say, the more common you appear, and the less in control. Even if you are saying something banal, it will seem original if you make it vague, open-ended, and sphinx-like. Powerful people impress and intimidate by saying less. The more you say, the more likely you are to say something foolish.”
Robert Greene (The 48 Laws of Power)
Another reason why silence is an incredibly powerful tool is that everyone has inherent narcissistic tendencies; in other words: people are primarily interested in themselves.
If you want to make a killer first impression, you should let the other person do most of the talking. Get people to talk about themselves/things they are passionate about and they will paradoxically think you are extremely interesting. Doing this, of course, requires you to put your own ego aside and become a spectator (or even better, an agitator) of their own self-interest.
Further, consider that talking less is a legitimate Stoic exercise for a very simple reason: once the words you say leave your mouth, they are completely outside of your control. This is Stoicism 101. Once you speak, you are at the mercy of the listener—and the more you do, the more you are opening yourself up for trouble.
On the flipside, saying less does not only give other people less ammunition to use against you, it also creates an enrapturing aura of mysteriousness around you. The more laconic your speech, the more imposing your presence.
Not a lot of people know that the word laconic actually comes from the Spartans, and that a quick look at its history can show us how gloriously powerful silence is.
The ancient city of Sparta was, at the time, known as Lacedaemon, and it thrived in the region of Laconia (which is where the famous Λ symbol on their shields representing the Greek letter lambda, or Latin “L”, comes from).
Other than being famous for their incredible physical prowess and obsession with warfare—as well as their proclivity for disgusting food—Spartans had a reputation for being very blunt and concise in their speech. Socrates described them as follows:
“[Spartans] conceal their wisdom, and pretend to be ignorant, so that they may seem to be superior only because of their prowess in battle. This is how you may know that I am speaking the truth and that the Spartans are the best educated in philosophy and speaking: if you talk to any ordinary Spartan, he seems to be stupid, but eventually, like an expert marksman, he shoots in some brief remark that proves you to be only a child."
Socrates, Plato’s Protagoras
Honestly, they were kind of badass. There are plenty of famous records that prove this to be the case; some of the most famous sentences in history come from them. Spartan women were famous for saying they were “the only ones who give birth to men” and telling their husbands to return from war “with their shield, or on it”.
It gets better.
You are all familiar with the Battle of Thermopylae, in which 300 brave Spartan soldiers (and around 7.000 other Greeks btw) faced the colossal army of King Xerxes, about 100.000 to 1.000.000 men strong. In this famous encounter, one beautiful moment took place.
After having arrived on the Hellenic hills and seeing that he faced some apparently laughable opposition, an emissary from King Xerxes approached the Greeks and gave them a long speech about his grandiosity. Eventually, he decided to act benevolently and told them to lay down their weapons so he could spare their life. Spartan king Leonidas gave a legendary reply: molon labe, in other words:
“Come and get them.”
King Leonidas, so they say
If you think it can’t get any more laconic than this, you’re mistaken. Years later, Macedonian King Philip II (Alexander the Great’s father) was conquering the entirety of Greece and eventually set his eyes on the city of Sparta. He sent them a menacing and rhetorical message, asking them whether he should visit Sparta as a friend or as an enemy. The Spartans replied with “Neither."
Furious, Philip made his way to Sparta and told them:
“You are advised to submit without further delay, for if I bring my army into your land, I will destroy your farms, slay your people, and erase your city.”
Philip II, kind of losing his temper here
The Spartan council replied with a single word:
“'If.'”
Spartan Ephors, Plutarch’s De Garrulitate
Neither Philip II nor Alexander the Great ever attempted to conquer the city.
Implementation
Just shut up, man.
Closing thoughts
Before you click away, a quick word of caution.
As you went through these practices, you might (understandably) have gotten the impression that I am advocating for a sort of benign masochism towards life. This is not entirely true.
If you have followed Project Impero for a while, you probably know that I’m all for a Camusian enjoyment of existence as well. The discipline, rationality and prudence of Stoicism can coexist with the liberation, irrationality and indulgence of Epicureanism or even Hedonism. Sometimes, Apollo and Dionysus can shake hands.
These exercises are extremely effective tools for a very specific job: building up your inner Stoic. Trying to use them all at once will most likely not be sustainable. Instead, I recommend that you pick a few of them and integrate them into the next 30 days, as if it were a challenge. As the days go by, try to get a feel for them and don't be scared to make adjustments. Even better: now that hopefully you have a much clearer idea of what Stoic exercises should look like, you could even come up with some of your own.
Stoicism works best when seen as a tool to prepare yourself for hardship. As big a fan as I am of their philosophy, I also recognize they have many flaws and crucial limitations. But that is a topic for a different day.
With all of that out of the way, I wish you stress, pain and discomfort for the days to come.
If you made it this far… don’t you have something better to do?
Seriously though, you have incredible resilience.
Maybe follow me on Twitter for more guides and adventures like this one?
(Re)Sources
Works used
Meditations, Marcus Aurelius
Letters from a Stoic, Seneca
Moral letters to Lucilius, Seneca
Antifragile, Nassim Taleb
The Good Life, William B. Irvine
The Fasting Cure, Upton Sinclair
The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene
Skill With People, Les Giblin
Protagoras, Plato
Recommendations
Primary sources
Aurelius, Epictetus and Seneca are the three most famous Stoics. These books won't bore you with any theory. Instead, they will show you how each of them applied Stoic teachings into their lives:
Meditations by Marcus Aurelius
Enchiridion by Epictetus
Discourses, by Epictetus
Letters from a Stoic by Seneca
Secondary sources
As you can imagine, many modern writers have also taken an interest in Stoicism. These are some of the most notable mentions:
The Inner Citadel by Pierre Hadot
Philosophy as a Way of Life by Pierre Hadot
A Guide to the Good Life by William B. Irvine
The Obstacle is the Way by Ryan Holiday
How to Think Like a Roman Emperor by Donald J. Robertson
Video sources
For those of you who want to sit back and learn a little more:
Other sources
A bit of this and a bit of that:
Amazing! Really enjoyed the article, it's deep and really well written,Thanks Yago
4 years later do you still do cold exposure and fasting ? If yes how would you recommend implementing them ?
I wish you too enjoyable stress, pain and discomfort for the days to come ;)