From Vol. 1, Issue 12, December 2019
Learning to practice Stoicism everyday
How do you practice Stoicism?
Here’s one way I daily practice Stoicism. First thing in the morning before the day gets away from me, I sit at my desk and open my special drawer. Inside are my favorite pens, some decent stationery, and postage stamps with appealing images I’ve carefully chosen at the post office. I have preprinted return address stickers at the ready and, if I want to take a walk on the wild side, some artsy markers, charcoal, paint brushes, and envelope sealing wax with an engraved stamp for fun and nostalgia.
Notes of gratitude
Here’s what I do. I stop thinking about EVERYTHING (except my perfectly brewed coffee) and I call to mind one person. It might be someone I love. It could be someone who I heard just received a scary diagnosis. It might be an author I’ve never met whose book helped me enter a world I never knew existed. It could be a teacher I had 20 years ago whom I never got around to thanking for screwing my head on straight. It might be a cordial acquaintance I’d like to know better. Perhaps someone in jail who could use a connection with the outside world. The point is: it can be anyone.
Then I intensely think about that person and what that person means to me. I think about how their presence in the world raises at least by a jot the spiritual ecology we share. Then I write that person a short, sincere, and thoughtful well-wishing note expressing whatever the occasion calls for: gratitude, a question, an elaboration of a shared idea. No boilerplate text. Every note is fresh and alive.
Next, I stick the note in an envelope, apply a return address sticker and stamp and seal it up, sometimes taking an extra minute to apply sealing wax for the fancy schmancy effect. I take the letter and toss it on the passenger seat of my car (my out box) so that I’ll remember to post it next time I’m at the post office.
A transformative practice
I’m done with my daily practice. The whole process, because I had my efficiently stocked “kit” in my special drawer, takes between 5 and 10 minutes maximum. One note. Each day. That’s it. And the unsought outcome is transformative. First, it helps me to practice the Stoic principle of withdrawing my attention from the mere flashy and trivial and to redirect it to what matters: human connections. Second, it Stoically adjusts my thought and action in the direction of virtue. This practice develops the Stoic ideals of discernment and deliberation over reactivity and heedlessness or short-sightedness. This practice is an ideal Stoic exercise for defining the person I want to be and through my missives, speaking to and invoking the higher spiritual dimension of my epistolary partners.
Stoicism does not traffic in grandeur
If this pedestrian daily action sounds far from the high-minded eloquent passages one might study in the Stoic canon, it’s not. The beauty of Stoicism is it’s not reducible to a catechism or a list of “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots.” It doesn’t traffic in grandeur. The great teachers of Stoicism, Marcus, Epictetus, Seneca, et al. offer endless quotable bons mots and wisdom worthy of repeated readings over a lifetime. But Stoicism is a doing, and a very situationally-based and personal doing, not a set of pithy sayings. Stoicism sitting on the page is at best just pretty literature. What matters is what Stoic teachings inspire us to do. And we don’t have to do that much in order to set in motion the chain of consciously chosen ameliorative actions that elevate ourselves and our world.
365 “vibrant vectors”
By the way, those daily notes end up creating 365 vibrant vectors between me and my penfriends. They multiply in effect and help to fortify crucial bonds. Our exchanges end up enriching our lives in unforeseen and unimaginable ways.
I am not prescribing this daily practice, though if you wish to adopt it as your own, terrific. What I do urge is noticing and developing your own workable ways of doing Stoicism: specific actions and rituals that make you an exemplar of Stoicism's finest teachings.
Sharon Lebell is the author of The Art of Living and is a member of our Advisory Board.