I’ve always been a fan of personal experiments, especially the kind that promise some real change without requiring me to upend my entire life. One of the approaches I’d long heard about—but never truly tried—was Stoicism. Sure, I’d skimmed a few Marcus Aurelius quotes on social media and read about Seneca’s letters in passing, but I never really dug into their teachings in a consistent, day-to-day way.
I decided to commit to a month of living by core Stoic principles. Did I become a monk in a cave somewhere? Not really. Did I discover a new perspective that fundamentally influenced my day-to-day routine? Absolutely. Here’s how it all went down.
1) Setting the stage for my Stoic experiment
When I first kicked off this experiment, I didn’t fully grasp what I was in for. I was familiar with the usual suspects: “Focus on what you can control,” “View adversity as an opportunity for growth,” and other ideas that show up in Stoic texts. But I wanted more than just cute quotes on my phone’s lock screen. I wanted to see how these concepts would shape my mind, my actions, and even my relationships if I really lived them out.
For one month, I decided to practice a handful of Stoic techniques:
- Morning reflections: Spending a few minutes contemplating how I wanted to handle the day’s challenges.
- Evening journaling: Writing about what went well, what didn’t, and what I could do better.
- Negative visualization: Imagining worst-case scenarios to prepare my mind for them.
- Dichotomy of control: Constantly reminding myself of what’s truly in my hands vs. what isn’t.
These were simple, everyday tasks, but my plan was to do them consistently. I wanted to track any shifts—whether that meant less stress, more patience, or maybe just better focus.
2) Embracing negative visualization
Probably the most surprising tool I tried was negative visualization. On the surface, it sounds counterintuitive. Why would I want to imagine bad things happening? But the Stoics believed that regularly picturing potential difficulties or losses helps us appreciate what we have while also reducing fear of the unknown.
So, every morning, I’d spend a few minutes visualizing a tough work scenario, an argument with a friend, or even losing something I hold dear. I went through the feelings that came up—disappointment, frustration, sadness—and then let those feelings pass, reassuring myself that life would go on.
What I found was that, by facing these “dark” possibilities head-on, I gained a weird sense of inner calm. Suddenly, the day’s challenges felt less daunting. The stoic philosopher Seneca once noted, “We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.” And he’s right: once you envision the worst, you realize it’s not always as terrifying as your mind makes it out to be. I noticed I’d approach real-life obstacles with greater composure because my mind wasn’t caught off guard. I had already “been there” mentally.
3) Practicing the dichotomy of control
This was a game-changer for me. The Stoics talk a lot about separating what’s within our control from what isn’t. Epictetus stressed that we should focus on our own attitudes and actions, not external events. It sounds obvious, but actually living it can be tricky because we’re so used to reacting emotionally to random external triggers.
Throughout the month, I kept reminding myself of this simple question: “Is this something I can control?” If the answer was yes, I’d channel my energy into taking productive action. If the answer was no, I’d do my best to release it. This helped me break free from stressing about things like the weather, unexpected work deadlines, or other people’s moods. Instead, I tried to put my efforts into what I could directly influence—my preparation, my emotional responses, and my willingness to adapt.
Interestingly, letting go of that need to micromanage everything else around me was unbelievably liberating. I wasn’t perfect at it, but the difference was noticeable. I became less anxious, more solutions-focused. I even started catching myself in mid-anxiety about something and saying, “Wait a second, this is out of my hands.” That pause allowed me to pivot and invest my energy in more meaningful ways.
4) Journaling my journey
I’ve talked about this before but journaling is something I picked up years ago when I started exploring mindfulness practices. Stoicism gave me a fresh perspective on it. Rather than just scribble about my day, I started focusing on what the Stoics call “self-scrutiny.” Each night, I’d reflect on:
- What did I do well today?
- Where did I fall short of my own standards?
- How could I apply Stoic principles more effectively tomorrow?
The folks at Very Well Mind stand behind the idea that journaling can reduce stress and improve self-awareness, and I fully believe it, especially after this month. Putting my thoughts down on paper helped me spot patterns—like when I tended to lose my cool or get sucked into unproductive worries. It was a chance to objectively review my day and then map out a plan for being just a bit better next time.
Journaling wasn’t just a mental dump; it became a practical tool for growth. If I messed up, I’d document it without beating myself up. That’s another core Stoic principle: accept mistakes as a natural part of life and learn from them, rather than ruminating.
5) The ripple effect in relationships
One unexpected bonus of this experiment was noticing how Stoicism impacted my interactions with other people. Before, I might take it personally if a friend canceled plans or if someone disagreed with me at work. But once I started applying the dichotomy of control, I realized other people’s behaviors are (obviously) outside my control.
Rather than spiraling into self-doubt or resentment, I started responding with a calmer mindset. If someone was frustrated, I recognized that their emotions belonged to them. I also became more intentional in how I showed up for others. I tried to focus on listening and acting with integrity, two traits that Stoics like Marcus Aurelius valued. One of his most famous lines says, “You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” That became a sort of mantra whenever I felt tension rising in a conversation.
This shift in perspective didn’t just help me manage conflict. It also improved my communication. I was more present, more empathetic. When I was less reactive, people around me seemed more relaxed, too. That’s a pretty cool side effect of practicing ancient philosophy.
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6) Finding balance with modern life
One question people often ask is whether ancient Stoic principles can really apply to our tech-driven, hyperconnected world. In my experience, they absolutely can. I live a busy, modern life—I’m plugged in, juggling multiple projects, and on social media more than I’d like to admit.
Stoicism, however, offered a roadmap for not letting all that noise overwhelm me. Instead of compulsively scrolling through social media, I reminded myself to focus on what was truly beneficial. I started setting boundaries: phone-free mornings, blocking off time to work without distractions, and practicing mental clarity even when notifications pinged me incessantly. It wasn’t about running away to a cabin in the woods; it was about integrating these timeless principles into the daily hustle.
I also explored how these Stoic concepts align with some of the Buddhist principles I’ve studied. In my own book, I talk about the idea of acceptance and non-attachment, which shares a lot of overlap with Stoicism’s emphasis on controlling your mental landscape. In both traditions, peace and resilience come from shaping your internal world, not chasing external variables that’ll always be in flux.
7) The lasting mindset shift
After a month, it was pretty clear to me that Stoicism isn’t just about reading pithy quotes; it’s about rewiring how you see your life and the world around you. Did I become an invincible robot who never gets upset? Of course not. But these principles helped me see my emotions more objectively.
I found myself:
- Less likely to obsess over minor inconveniences
- Better able to handle unexpected challenges
- More appreciative of the relationships and routines I usually take for granted
- Overall, more grounded and calm
It also dawned on me that Stoicism is a lifelong practice, not a quick fix. A month is enough time to see some shifts, but it’s only scratching the surface of this philosophy. That said, the changes I noticed were tangible enough to keep me motivated. I still do my morning and evening reflections, and I still catch myself asking whether something is within my control.
Final words
This little experiment demonstrated that ancient wisdom can hold its own in the modern world. By focusing on what you can control, preparing your mind through negative visualization, and taking time to reflect on your actions, it becomes easier to stay calm, clear-headed, and even compassionate in everyday life.
For anyone curious about trying Stoicism, I’d suggest starting small. Pick one or two practices—like journaling or morning reflection—and see how they play out. Don’t expect to become the next Marcus Aurelius overnight, but do look for those subtle shifts in your mindset. You might be surprised at how these centuries-old teachings can bring a quiet sense of resilience to your 21st-century challenges. It’s not magic; it’s just a powerful reminder that our internal reality is often what we make of it.
And trust me, once you see the benefits, it might just become a lifelong pursuit. Stoicism has the power to root you firmly in the present, while also preparing you for the unpredictable nature of life. In a world filled with distractions and chaos, who couldn’t use a bit more of that?