The modern mindfulness craze has lost the plot, do this instead.

I have often thought the mindfulness movement has missed the point entirely. Much like for many in the modern Stoicism movement, the allure of achieving personal tranquility and focus in order to be more productive is little more than a life hack to help people with no sense of moral purpose more effectively behave in the reproachable ways they always have. Like the woman who has “Live, Laugh, Love” plastered on the walls of her home, but spends her time judging her neighbours and seething in pride or envy – or the man who has “Word Hard, Play Hard” in his work email signature block, but fails to respect the personal lives of his subordinates and peers in the office – those who preach meditation or mindfulness as the path to a happy life have simply adopted a trite and pithy fad without understanding its true implications or purpose. And just as Stoicism is not a philosophy of personal resilience and emotional placidity, the point of mindfulness is not productivity and calm. All that said, when we dig into the purposes of Stoicism and mindfulness, we can see how applying both to our lives can be compatible and complementary to one another.

Attention, appreciation, and acceptance

At their core, both Stoicism and mindfulness are about appreciating and accepting the world – and our place in it – as they are. Stoicism of course has a moral code to adopt alongside it, but the Stoic practice of prosochē, or attention, is central to the development of our moral character. It is not a twice-daily, 15-minute practice of letting go of distractions. Rather, it is a constant mode of being that calls for vigilance with regard to our desires, impressions, and actions in order to assess whether we are behaving in an appropriate and prosocial manner. It is a persistent recognition that we are not the center of the universe, but a small part of a unified cosmos that extends unfathomably outward from our perspective.

Prosochē in many ways is Stoic mindfulness. The point of a mindfulness practice is to recognize, accept, and embrace the present moment. And that’s not some faux-spirituality babble. It means that you accept and embrace the difficulties in life you’re dealing with, the environment you are in, the people in your lives, everything. It means that you are acknowledging that you are remaining open to the fact that in every moment, you have a choice. You can choose to act selfishly, or to act socially. You can choose to direct your life toward vapid ends, or to develop the only thing that cannot be taken from you – your character. You can choose to flitter from moment to moment, finding yourself bewildered in 40 years by how your life seems to have passed you by, or you can take each moment deliberately and truly live in that same span of time.

Marcus Aurelius understood and articulated this to himself well:

Objective judgment, now, at this very moment. Unselfish action, now, at this very moment. Willing acceptance – now, at this very moment  –  of all external events. That’s all you need. - Marcus Aurelius; Meditations, 9.6.

Be a good person

While a common refrain in Stoicism, it bears repeating again and again and again. Stoicism is about one thing and one thing only: being a good person. Prosochē is perhaps one of the most important tools we have at the ready to help pursue this goal, but it is not an end in and of itself. Being mindful of the world around you is pointless if not also coupled with the conviction to refine your moral character over time. Being calm and being happy are not the same. Imagine, if you will, a pond in a soothing grove. First, picture it completely serene, with not a ripple on its surface – reflecting back the trees and the sky above such that it almost seems like it isn’t there at all. Now, imagine that same pond absolutely teeming with life. There is a mother duck and her chicks fluttering across its surface. There are schools of tiny fish swishing about, eating algae at the water’s edge. A frog croaks as it jumps off a lilypad, splashing into the water. The pond is no longer a canvas upon which the world is painted, but an active participant in the painting itself.

That pond is you. You can be placid and calm, merely observing and reflecting back what you think the world wants to see in you. Or you can be vibrant and participatory, giving space for both yourself and others to flourish through your actions. Nobody is asking you to be perfect – I definitely fall well short of that mark. But by paying attention to the little things in every moment, you end up finding you have more time than you think to become a better person every day.

John Kuna is a Stoic prokopton, writer, and dog lover. He likes digging deep into Stoic theory, but also writing accessible and inspiring Stoic content.

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