The word ‘system’ in the context of this video doesn’t refer to a specific political,
cultural, or religious system.
It relates to what seems to underlie it all, what brings about a plethora of human behaviors
and mental states like anger and anxiety, namely the very enslavement to the whims of
our environment.
When we look at the human condition, we notice that most of us are entirely controlled by
a world outside of us.
When we get what we want from it, we’re happy.
But when it’s taken away from us, we’re sad.
The praise people give us uplifts us, but their dislike makes us miserable.
The more we want something, the more we’re willing to sacrifice to get it.
And the more we oppose something, the higher the price we’re ready to pay to avoid it.
These chains of desire and aversion, love and hate, of like and dislike, leave us fearful
and open to manipulation by shaming and blaming, the appeal of large companies, political parties,
cults, and other external forces that want something from us.
And thus, the world governs us like a donkey rider with a carrot on a stick, which most
of us follow from birth to death, like the obedient cattle we are.
But what if we decide to reject the carrot?
What if we choose to escape the system?
The ancient philosophy of Stoicism concerns itself with attaining freedom from the whims
of the environment.
We don’t achieve freedom from the system by destroying our surroundings, though, as
the external world is not at fault here.
The universe does as it does.
And even though we have some influence on it, we ultimately cannot command it.
Like sunshine, rain, and wind strike a farmer’s crops, the outside world imposes on us its
inescapable conditions.
These conditions themselves are not the system.
Our enslavement to them is.
How come that the waves of fate so quickly sweep us away?
How come that even the smallest of misfortunes and tiny bits of luck play our emotions like
puppeteers?
Stoic philosopher Epictetus explained it as follows, and I quote:
Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which they form concerning
things.
Death, for instance, is not terrible, else it would have appeared so to Socrates.
But the terror consists in our notion of death that it is terrible.
When therefore we are hindered, or disturbed, or grieved, let us never attribute it to others,
but to ourselves; that is, to our own principles.
End quote.
The system works as long as we add fuel to it.
The more we see tragedy and blessing in what’s natural and beyond our control, the more Fortune
determines how we feel.
Luckily, the Stoics provide us with wisdom to escape the system.
These are seven Stoic ideas that might help us replace an extremely vulnerable, erratic,
and often stormy mode of living with a tranquil enjoyment of freedom.
1) Being cheerful whatever befalls
How much time did we waste hoping for good things to happen and bad things never to appear?
How many hours did we weep because the future turned out differently than we had expected?
Humans have become masters in fighting fate and subsequently suffering the inevitable
pain that this brings.
Our disagreement with uncertainty is big business, and our fear of misfortune an opportunity
to be exploited.
Many try to sell us promises for the future, like the illusion of safety, the protection
of ourselves and loved ones, the prevention of encountering things we don’t like.
So, as slaves of our likes and dislikes, we try to trick fate by adjusting our environment
to keep misfortune at bay.
But we can’t put locks on every door of life.
We can’t police reality’s every street and alley.
Despite the time, effort, and money spent on protective measures, fate always wins.
We, therefore, escape the system by accepting whatever comes instead of paying dearly as
a vain attempt to resist the inevitable.
By doing so, we’ll less likely let others capitalize on our fears, and we’ll be less
disturbed when misfortune occurs.
As Seneca stated, and I quote:
Why, then, should we be angry?
Why should we lament?
We are prepared for our fate: let nature deal as she will with her own bodies; let us be
cheerful whatever befalls, and stoutly reflect that it is not anything of our own that perishes.
2) Caring less about reputation
The Stoics regard reputation as a so-called ‘preferred indifferent.’
It’s nice to have, but you don’t need it to be happy.
Moreover, as is the case with anything external, reputation is ultimately beyond our control.
Some people spend a lifetime building a good reputation for themselves, just to see it
destroyed because of a single misstep.
Others live lives of crime and complete disregard of their social standing but suddenly gain
fame and admiration by chance.
Conclusion: reputation is as fickle as the wind.
The more we care about good standing, the more we become dependent on other people’s
opinions, which is unreliable.
Moreover, if we care about the opinions of others, we will be open to manipulation and
exploitation, and we become slaves to the environment.
Epictetus argued that we should not let our desire for a good reputation stand in the
way of our mental well-being.
If necessary, we should accept things like shame, blame, exclusion, and ridicule if that
allows us to purchase tranquility and freedom; the latter are within our control, and therefore,
uncontrolled by and independent of what other people think or say.
3) Learning to endure
Most of the time, when we’re in an undesirable situation, we wish to escape it quickly.
But this isn’t always possible.
And so we go on to complain and moan and feel bad about it as we believe we’re entitled
to a better position.
But we’re ultimately not entitled to anything, and many times the best way to handle a situation
is to endure it.
How often have we deviated from our path, betrayed our morals, compromised our values
simply because we didn’t want to endure pain?
Pain is the mighty weapon that makes good people do bad things or refraining from doing
good things.
Pain, then, remains a tool for control; and in our attempt to run from it, we run straight
into the trap of those trying to control us.
Thus, we’re willing to exchange our freedom for a little less pain and discomfort.
If we find it challenging to endure painful situations, we might want to turn to Marcus
Aurelius.
His meditations teach us that endurance isn’t necessarily bad.
Endurance can be a purpose, something beneficial to us, even if its consequence is death.
I quote:
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.
Just remember: you can endure anything your mind can make endurable, by treating it as
in your interest to do so.
In your interest, or in your nature.
End quote.
We could compare this approach to Albert Camus’ interpretation of the Greek mythological figure
Sisyphus.
The gods sentenced Sisyphus to push a rock uphill for eternity.
His only path to liberation was to fully enjoy his fate so that his punishment ceased to
be a punishment.
4) Letting go of people
Strong attachments to people can have devastating consequences.
It means that the very possibility of losing them begins to dictate our lives, to the point
that our every move is a desperate attempt to avoid an unavoidable end game: the separation
between ourselves and the person we’re attached to.
The love story between Padmé and Anakin in the Star Wars prequels beautifully displays
the dangers of unhealthy attachments and how this welcomes dark forces to manipulate and
enslave us.
Palpatine uses Anakin’s fear of losing Padmé to control him, with all the horrible consequences.
If Anakin had been able to love, not in a way that’s suffocating, fearful, and possessive,
but rather based on freedom, trust, and detachment, the dark side would have been powerless over
him.
Epictetus gives us some harsh but potent advice regarding the attachment to things we’re
fond of, which is that we ought to see them as they are, as destined to be broken or dead.
I quote:
If, for example, you are fond of a specific ceramic cup, remind yourself that it is only
ceramic cups in general of which you are fond.
Then, if it breaks, you will not be disturbed.
If you kiss your child, or your wife, say that you only kiss things which are human,
and thus you will not be disturbed if either of them dies.
5) Letting go of material things
There’s a reason why people are stuck on the hamster wheel of commuting hours to work
a job they hate, being told what to do, day-in day-out, often to exhaustion: we’re willing
to sacrifice our precious time and energy to purchase material possessions.
Society tells us that happiness is conditional, as it depends on all kinds of outside circumstances.
We need that minimum amount of money, social status, that group of friends, that house
in the suburbs.
And as long as we don’t have it, we are not happy.
But even though attainable for many, are these things worthy of pursuing?
They are, above all, part of the domain where fate and Fortune rule.
Hence, they’ll kick and throw us around, like a child’s toy, simply because we choose
to wrestle with those we can never beat.
In his letter to Lucilius titled On True and False Riches, Seneca questions the value of
all these material possessions we pursue, like “gilded couched” and “jeweled furniture.”
Do they really make us happy?
Or is it to show the world that we’re living the good life?
Seneca goes as far as to say that we should not let our happiness rely on anything outside
of ourselves: from riches like gold and silver to even the most simple things like water
and porridge.
Doing so makes us independent of any external circumstance, no matter how trivial.
Seneca argues that not the person over whom Fortune has slight power, but the person over
whom she has no power at all, enjoys true freedom.
He then refers to the words of his teacher Attalus, and I quote:
If you are willing to think often of these things, you will strive not to seem happy,
but to be happy, and, in addition, to seem happy to yourself rather than to others.
6) Choosing our response
A typical reaction to people that provoke, insult, or in any way try to offend us is
to answer with anger and hostility.
Thus, the system gives other people the power to make us feel bad, as we let their behavior
affect the way we act.
But then, as with the quest for a good reputation, we tie our happiness to other people’s actions.
Jerks, toxic people, narcissists, psychopaths: these people roam the world like rain clouds,
showering us with their malice, hoping that we’ll suffer their wrath.
But there’s a choice, or as Viktor Frankl wrote: “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.”
Do we respond to these people with anger, fear, and hostility, then we have handed them
the key to our emotional faculties.
But if we choose to be indifferent to them, they will only pollute the space around us,
but not our hearts and minds.
And thus, they will not affect our freedom and our inner tranquility.
The lesson here is that we’re only slaves if we choose to be or don’t realize that
we have a choice to be free.
7) Accepting death
Some people claim that the root of all fears is the fear of death.
As is the case with the fear of pain, the fear of death can also dictate the way we
live.
The Stoics would argue that a virtuous life is much more important than a long life.
We don’t have anything to say about the latter, but we do have everything to say about
the former as long as we’re alive.
If we fear death, we may end up living to avoid it, rather than living for life itself
and making it great.
When we live life to avoid death, we continually escape circumstances that contain the slightest
threat and seek out circumstances that show us an illusion of safety.
We become anxious sheep who follow any shepherd that promises us the light of another day.
But no shepherd can save us from the inevitable consequence of life: the disintegration of
what we deem ourselves and the return of our physical bodies to nature.
It’s futile to fear death.
Or worse: it’s dangerous, as the fear of death might stop us from living bravely and
virtuously.
But death, so argues Marcus Aurelius, is too one of the things required by nature.
Like growth, maturity, the first gray hair.
Everything comes and goes into existence and passes away.
I quote:
So this is how a thoughtful person should await death: not with indifference, not with
impatience, not with disdain, but simply viewing it as one of the things that happen to us.
Now you anticipate the child’s emergence from its mother’s womb; that’s how you
should await the hour when your soul will emerge from its compartment.
Thank you for watching.