Posts

The Most Overlooked Wonder

Image
“Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of the mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering." — Saint Augustine We’ll stare at the Grand Canyon for hours. We’ll hike up mountains, drive to the ocean, lie under the stars and feel something stir in our souls. And yet, we rarely turn that same sense of awe inward. That’s what Augustine was getting at. We’re wired to marvel at creation, but not the creator within. Not the mind. Not the soul. Not the one doing the wondering. We don’t stand in front of a mirror and think, How incredible that I’m alive… that I can think, choose, love, create, and change. We rush right past ourselves to catch a sunset. Here’s the irony: all that outer beauty only matters because there’s someone here to witness it. You. You are the one who feels the wind on your face and translates it into meaning. You ...

Dust and Wind

Image
Ecclesiastes begins with a gut punch: “Vanity of vanities... all is vanity.” The Stoics might nod in agreement. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “Soon you will have forgotten everything. Soon everything will have forgotten you.” Bleak? Not really. Both are clearing the clutter to make space for what matters. What Does 'Vanity' Mean? In modern language, we think of vanity as pride or obsession with appearances. But in Ecclesiastes, vanity (from the Hebrew hevel ) means something more like vapor, breath, or mist. It’s not about arrogance—it’s about emptiness, impermanence, and chasing after what slips through your fingers. So when Solomon says “all is vanity,” he means that much of what we strive for—wealth, status, power—is fleeting and ultimately hollow. The Illusion of Control: Ecclesiastes reminds us that time, chance, and death come for all. “The race is not to the swift... nor riches to men of understanding.” The Stoics say: don’t try to control the storm. Control your respo...

When to Speak… and When to Shut Up

Image
  When to Speak… and When to Shut Up The Stoic Journal | By Andrew Wells There are moments when saying what’s on your mind feels like the right move. You’re frustrated. You’re sure you’re right. You’ve got something to say. But just because something can be said doesn’t mean it should be. I’ve learned (often the hard way) that there’s strength in restraint. Saying nothing isn’t weakness—it’s composure. It’s awareness. It’s strategy. When I was younger, I’d let words fly without thinking about the cost. Sometimes it felt good in the moment. But looking back, a lot of those moments were about ego, not truth. The Stoics knew this. Epictetus said, “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.” In practice, that means you don’t always need the last word. You don’t need to win every argument. You don’t need to blurt out what you’re thinking just to make a point. Sometimes, the quietest guy in the room has the clearest mind. And...

I Know I Don’t Know When to Give Up

Image
When I was a teenager, I worked in a hotel restaurant. One night, water started pouring into the cloak room. I grabbed a mop and got to work. I didn’t ask questions, didn’t call for help, didn’t stop to wonder where the water was coming from. I just mopped—bucket after bucket, like I was going to win the fight by sheer effort. It didn’t stop. And neither did I. Eventually, the hotel manager came by. He looked at the growing puddle, looked at me, and said, “You can stop now.” I did. But not because the job was done—because someone made the decision for me. That moment sticks with me. Not because it was dramatic, but because it was true. I don’t know when to give up. Still don’t, really. And that trait—it’s helped me, hurt me, and shaped me. Looking back, I can almost hear Marcus Aurelius whispering: “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” If I’d understood that as a young man, maybe I wouldn’t have tried to mop up life itself....

What’s the Point?

Image
  What’s the Point? (And Why That Question Matters) At some point, we all ask it. What’s the point of all this—working, striving, chasing, worrying—if we all end up in the same place? The writer of Ecclesiastes doesn’t sugarcoat it: “The wise have eyes in their heads, while fools walk in the dark; but I came to realize that the same fate overtakes them both.” That hits hard. It’s a truth most people spend their lives trying to avoid. But if we’re brave enough to sit with it for a minute, there’s actually peace on the other side. Because if all roads lead to the same end—if we’re dust in the end, no matter our title, bank account, or followers—then maybe the real value is found in how we live, not in what we accumulate. That’s a Stoic idea, too. Marcus Aurelius said, “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” Same message. Different robe. The point isn’t to be morbid—it’s to be clear. You don’t have to chase everything. Y...

Picking Up Where I Left Off

Image
                                             Finding Me   It’s been a while since I’ve posted here—September, I think. Life got busy. Ideas needed time to breathe. But the truth is, I never stopped thinking about what The Stoic Journal is meant to be: a space to explore values, purpose, virtue, and all the things that matter more the older we get. This past week, something unexpected happened—people started buying my Finding Me series again. I hadn’t promoted it. I hadn’t posted anything. But something in those books is still connecting with people. That means a lot. So here I am again—ready to keep the conversation going, one post at a time. If you’ve read Finding Me , thank you. If you haven’t, it’s a short series about discovering your values, embracing purpose, and living a life that actually fits you. I’ll be posting more soon, both here an...

The Power of Silence

Image
How Stoicism Helps Handle Disrespect at Work: The Power of Silence   We’ve all been there—trying to help a coworker, only to receive an email that feels like an attack. Rather than gratitude or constructive feedback, their response is filled with negativity and criticism. The urge to fire back, to defend yourself, is strong. But as Stoics, we know there’s a more powerful approach: silence. Why Stoicism Teaches Us to Choose Silence When faced with a disrespectful email, it’s easy to get caught up in anger or frustration. But Marcus Aurelius reminds us, “You always have the option of having no opinion.” The Stoic approach is to step back and recognize that it’s not the event itself that disturbs us, but our judgment of it. Choosing not to respond is an act of wisdom. The Importance of Emotional Control in the Workplace Your first reaction may be to defend yourself or set the record straight. But responding from a place of emotion can pull you into the very negativity you’re trying to...