It can be tempting to think of Stoic practice as connected to the big things – the death of a loved one, changes in relationships, unexpected news from a doctor, an opportunity for the unknown, decisions to stop – or start – something that impacts your well-being or the well-being of others.

Small things are just as important

These things do offer inspiration to practice living in accordance with nature. However, I’m discovering that there are plenty of everyday opportunities to engage in Stoic practice – and those are just as important (perhaps even moreso) as they offer regular occasions to build good habits.

I was reminded of this recently, in an unlikely place: while traveling over 900 miles in roughly 36 hours over a whirlwind weekend in terrible weather. The trip had moments of stress – but I’m convinced that my beginner’s attempts of Stoic practice turned what could have been an uncomfortable experience into something that was actually pretty wonderful.

Now, it certainly helps that I was on my way to see my favorite band (The Cure) in the company of my favorite human (my husband) – but I actually found myself reflecting, at several points, on how an earlier version of myself might have reacted differently.

Putting things in perspective

First, tickets were sold out just as soon as the shows were announced. Is this a big thing? No, not really. Is it life-changing? No, likely not. But I do know that earlier Andi would have been pretty upset. My anger issues are part of what drew me to Stoicism in the first place – and my earlier self would have complained to anyone who would listen about how unfair the process was – or how I should (such entitlement!) be able to go. But I was actually a bit surprised by my own indifference.

Maybe another door will open

I’d accepted that it wasn’t meant to be – and while disappointed, I let it go. Then, almost as soon as I put my philosophy into practice, I received an “act-now” email letting me know that there were grass seats in Ohio up for grabs. And, indifference be damned (I’m still learning, after all!), I jumped at the chance. The tickets were affordable – and we’d been to this outdoor theater before. It was a manageable drive, so we made the decision to go for it.

We hit the road at 7am on a Sunday. We drove through miles and miles of single-lane construction and finally arrived at our hotel around 5pm. We made our way to the venue and got into the 90-minute uphill line of bumper-to-bumper traffic, as the rain poured down and the lightning flashed across the sky. We finally made it into the entry gates and saw hundreds of people walking away from the theater and down the muddy path.

And it may close too!

We asked a few where they were going – and they said, “We were told it was cancelled, so we’re going home.”

My earlier self made a brief appearance, thinking, “Oh my God… We drove all this way, for this?!” – but she was quieted by a calmer, happier, more Stoic version of myself who thought, “Well, let’s keep going and see what we find out. These things do happen. Best not to react just yet.” And so we did.

What we found at the top was that the show would indeed go on – it would just start a bit later than planned. So, we rented lawn chairs, put on our ponchos, and found a place under a big oak tree while it rained and rained – and we waited it out. When the band came on, they played for what turned out to be almost three glorious hours. We went back to the hotel, slept well, and made the return trip the very next morning. All was well. It could have been a mess – I could have lost my cool, or made assumptions, or gotten angry. But I didn’t.

And it doesn’t mean I will always be so connected to what I can control and so disconnected from or indifferent to what I cannot control – like weather, traffic, the actions or assumptions of people who could have prompted me to act in kind – but I do know that this was a really great experience.

I’m grateful for it – and for the insights it brought me.

Entrust things to the universe

This one trip, this one little slice of everyday life, reminded me of how much better things can be when we do as Musonius Rufus said, and “concern ourselves absolutely with the things that are under our control and entrust the things not in our control to the universe.” (Musonius Rufus, Fragments 38 )

That night, the universe did its thing – and I did mine. And it was fantastic.

Andi Sciacca is based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she is an Associate Professor II of Writing + Humanities at The Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design (MIAD). She is also engaged in several nonprofit leadership roles – including serving as a member of the Modern Stoicism Steering Committee.

---