“Let us keep to the way which Nature has mapped out for us, and let us not swerve therefrom. If we follow Nature, all is easy and unobstructed; but if we combat Nature, our life differs not a whit from that of men who row against the current.” - Seneca, Moral Letters, 122

Stoic wisdom speaks to me through its connection to nature—not only the natural world around us, but also our own inner nature as rational, social beings. To live “according to nature,” as the Stoics describe it, is to live thoughtfully: to accept what lies beyond our reach, to make peace with limits, and to act with reason and virtue in the choices that are ours to make.

Understanding our limitations

For me, wisdom begins with knowing what is truly mine to influence. I cannot bend the universe to my will, but I can decide how I meet each day. That means practicing philosophy not as an abstract pursuit, but as a guide for how I respond to whatever comes. Some of those responses include seeking truth even when it is uncomfortable, striving for virtue in the midst of hardship, remembering that death is part of life, and treating each day as a gift. It also means never forgetting that I am part of a larger whole, where kindness and respect toward others are as essential as courage within myself.

A life-changing injury

A workplace injury forced me to confront these teachings in a new way. The accident and the loss of my former role were beyond my control. Yet what remained within my power was my response. I chose not to let bitterness take root. Instead, I saw an opening to strengthen my character, to practice acceptance, and to redirect my energy toward a different path—one that still allowed me to contribute and grow.

Reflection on my new circumstances

Through reflection, I learned to release the grip of smaller frustrations. The Stoic call to let go of external events reminded me that clinging to regret or blame only added weight to what I already carried. Losing my job, my lifestyle, even some financial security—all of these were real losses. But they did not take away the steady core I could build inside myself through reason, discipline, and faith in my own resilience.

Focusing on my internal response

What the Stoics call “indifferents”—those external events beyond our command—did not define me. What mattered was my judgment and my response. I could still decide how to think, how to act, and how to move forward. That inner space of freedom became my anchor.

Cultivating virtue

In each decision, I asked myself: What virtue can I practice here? Wisdom, to see clearly. Courage, to meet difficulty. Justice, to act fairly. Temperance, to keep balance. The injury became less of a stumbling block and more of a teacher.

Letting go of the past

What was behind me could not be changed. To carry grudges or regrets was to carry needless burdens. By loosening my hold on what was gone, I freed my hands to shape what still lay ahead.

Taking rational action

Acceptance did not mean being passive. Once I acknowledged what had happened, I could take steps toward a new future—retraining for work, seeking a more fitting role, and rediscovering joy in the natural world. I found peace in walking outdoors, observing the quiet persistence of birds and other creatures simply living as they were meant to live. Their example reminded me that I, too, could fulfill my own nature with steadiness.

Maintaining inner peace

Despite external losses, Stoic wisdom urged me to keep a “sturdy mind.” I could defend against bitterness by holding to reason instead of turmoil. The story was not that of a victim, but of a person reshaping herself through choice, virtue, and practice.

“Whatever may happen to you, it was prepared for you from all eternity: and the implication of causes was from eternity spinning the thread of your being, and of that which is incident to it. - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 10.5

Shirley Kwosek Sciacca is a writer, living in the Midwest, seeking wisdom and resilience through lifelong learning and the practice of Stoic principles.

---