Letters from a Stoic (1)

Argument 1: The Sovereignty of the Mind and the Indifference of External Events One of the most foundational and recurring arguments in Seneca’s Letters from a Stoic is the radical division of the world into two distinct domains: that which is within our control, and that which lies outside of it. For Seneca, the only realm where a human being can exercise true and absolute power is the inner world of the mind—our judgments, our intentions, and our character. Everything else, which constitutes the entirety of our external existence, belongs to the domain of Fortune. This category of “externals” is vast and

Letters from a Stoic (2)

Argument 2: The Stewardship of Time and the Art of Living in the Present Following the foundational argument that our inner mind is the only true domain of our control, Seneca presents a second, intensely practical and urgent thesis that serves as the engine for all Stoic practice: time is our sole, true possession, and it is the most precious yet most squandered of all human assets. For Seneca, the vast majority of humanity lives in a state of self-inflicted poverty, not of money or property, but of time. We allow it to be stolen by others, we give it away carelessly,

Letters from a Stoic (3)

Argument 3: Living According to Nature: The Rejection of Luxury and the Embrace of Simplicity Building upon the foundational principles of mental sovereignty and the stewardship of time, Seneca advances a third, highly practical and socially critical argument that forms the ethical core of his daily philosophy: the happy life is achieved by living in accordance with Nature, which necessitates a conscious and rational rejection of luxury and an embrace of simplicity. For Seneca, luxury is not merely an indulgence or a matter of personal taste; it is a profound sickness of the soul and a corruption of society. It creates false

Letters from a Stoic (4): Philosophy as a Practical Art

Philosophy as a Practical Art: Deeds, Not Words Philosophy is not an abstract intellectual discipline but a practical art of living; its value is measured not by the subtlety of its arguments or the eloquence of its expression, but by its direct and observable impact on a person’s character and actions. Seneca wages a relentless war against what he perceives as the corruption of philosophy into a mere academic game—a collection of clever syllogisms, pretentious jargon, and rhetorical performances designed for applause. For him, philosophy is a medicine for the soul, a form of training for the battle of life, and