mindfulness, well-being, & eudaemonia
I have physical journals, notebooks, diaries, and day planners from September 1988 to April 2011, and then scads of digital files of story ideas, writing prompts, philosophical musings, and other ephemera. Organizing these fragments into something digestible and meaningful is a challenge, but a good place to start is my philosophical and spiritual practice, particularly Stoicism, which has shaped my life these past few post-pandemic years.
I find Stoicism very rewarding and it’s made me happier and more grounded. However, Stoicism’s association with “bro culture” and Silicon Valley clichés often makes me hesitate to share my enthusiasm. But today’s Daily Stoic email reminded me why this philosophy resonates:
“We do what’s right because it’s right…credit plays no part in our calculation. Whether or not we’ll escape punishment, whether or not we’ll be celebrated, these are not our concerns. Our concern is rooted in what we control, in who we choose to be by what we do and what we don’t do.”
This ethos is central to Stoicism: focusing on what we can control and cultivating virtues like justice, wisdom, courage, and temperance. I have a medallion on my desk and a tattoo with these virtues, though I’ve had a lifelong struggle with temperance, with moderation, with finding a decent equilibrium between wise habits and those that taste delicious or make you feel great in the moment. Stoicism isn’t about reaching a finish line; it’s a way of living, organizing thoughts, and responding to situations, most of which are beyond our control. When we embrace this, we edge closer to eudaemonia, a flourishing life.
Recently, mindfulness has been top of mind, inspired by Bangkok’s unexpectedly cool, crisp weather. I always tell people that mindfulness doesn’t have to mean long meditative walks in nature. It can be as simple as closing a door gently to avoid a teeth-rattling bang, a lesson reinforced in our quirky 23-story building, where open doors and windows amplify every sound. Built in 1984, our building is solid masonry and has a central open-air courtyard, rain-thundering awnings, and a mix of apartments and small businesses. It’s home to a cast of interesting characters, including my hubby and me. After nearly 14 years here, it feels like an extension of myself, much like Stoicism and the Buddhist practices I’ve integrated into my life.
I don’t know if many people know that Tina Turner was a devoted Buddhist for most of her life. I can’t remember if that was in the biopic, but I recently read her last book, “Happiness Becomes You”, which helped me understand my discomfort with identifying as an atheist. Turner writes:
“When we realize that our lives are one with the great and eternal life of the universe, we are the Buddha. The purpose of Buddhism is to enable all people to come to this realization…this greater, cosmic self is the Buddha nature, or Christ consciousness, within every one of us.”
Her words reminded me of the deep interconnectedness to all living things I felt during my first LSD trip at 19, a revelation that has recurred throughout my life. Though I labeled myself an atheist as a reaction to evangelical Christianity, I’ve always been spiritual and Stoicism and Buddhism align with my beliefs, both emphasizing mindfulness and interconnectedness. One of my favorite quotes about letting go of control, often misattributed but rooted in Viktor Frankl’s work, encapsulates this philosophy:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.”
This resonates with me, living in a Buddhist country like Thailand, where Stoic and Buddhist values overlap. The Thai concept of ‘sabai sabai’, a relaxed, balanced lifestyle, complements my own search for equilibrium. I reject rigid hierarchies and prefer a buffet approach to spirituality, sampling what nourishes my soul, much like Auntie Mame said, “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death.”
My interest in well-being dates back to high school when I first read Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People”. That book laid the foundation for my ongoing quest for self-improvement, though in hindsight, the pursuit of well-being stems from my mother’s early death, a loss that profoundly shaped me. Her sudden passing reminds me daily of life’s brevity and inspires me to live fully, to be grateful, to be mindful, and to cultivate eudaemonia in my life.
