Stoicism

person on a bridge near a lake

I’ve had some people reach out to me recently, asking me about Stoicism. I’m flattered and surprised that they are asking me about it, because frankly, what I am and what I do, I don’t consider “textbook” stoicism as it were. I don’t even know if I would call it stoicism at all. I’m just doing “me.”

I think I’ve got Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations somewhere. I think I have it on my Kindle. I think I’ve even read bits of it here and there. Honestly I don’t remember and I don’t really care. Beating off to dead philosphers has never really been my gig. There’s a world of experience to be had with the living that I would rather do than read philosophy.

My “brand” of stoicism would be ZFG. Zero Fucks Given. I don’t give a fuck what you think for the most part and I don’t give a fuck if you do or don’t give a fuck about that. I do me, that’s what I do.

How did I get “here” though? Maybe that’s the question that I’m being asked, even if not in those words.

Two major things happened that got me “here.”

  1. My mother died.
  2. A relationship that I had, that I didn’t want to end, and was terrified that it would end, ended.

Both happened within two weeks of each other. Back to back blows.

And I’m still here. I’m still walking, living, and breathing. I’m still standing. I’ve survived. I survived “it.”

I went through a period of grief and mourning for both deaths, and then I got on with living. As if there’s another alternative. If I survived that, I believe I can survive anything.

I gave up my fear. (For more on that, you should have signed up for the Masculine Geek newsletter, I talked about it there) I gave up my expectations of outcomes and was willing to see what would show up. I let go of disappointment for the most part. I made a choice to enjoy my life and I know that “good” times and “bad” times happen. I know that women will walk into my life and that they will also walk out of it too. Or I’ll walk out of theirs. Either way, there will always be another.

I realized that nobody gives a shit what I do or what I think. And that’s one of the most liberating things that happened to me. Since nobody gives a shit, I can do pretty much whatever I want. I know I’m not for everybody, I’m not everybody’s “cup of tea.” Nor are they mine. And that’s totally okay.

I don’t try and keep people in my life, I don’t try and hold them back from whatever it is that they seek. They are welcome to be around me for as long as they like or as long as I like. When they go, that’s okay, others will show up to take their place eventually. I’ll remember them and I choose to enjoy their company for the time that we share our lives in whatever form. I learn from them and I imagine they learn from me too. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. That part, that’s on them.

I gave up arguing with people, especially random motherfuckers on the internet. What a total waste of time and air. They get to burn. Just like I got to burn. Just like I’m positive that I’ll set myself on fire and burn again.

I learned to vote with my attention as well as my wallet. I only give attention and money to those things and people that I happen to care about, otherwise, fuck ’em. I’m okay with being the villain.

I know for a fact that I’ve covered all of this before in other posts and even in videos. So why am I going over it again? Because people asked and I’m trying the best way I can to describe my mental and emotional state I guess.

In some ways, all of how I got “here” took many experiences and a lot of time, and at the same time, it literally feels like one day I woke up, and here I was. Poof! Just like that.

I really have to thank Rian Stone. That Man popped my outrage bubble for me. I can’t control the bullshit that is against Men, even though Men aren’t the target audience. At least not my demographic. That was a huge vote with your attention moment for me. Huge. Rian, if you read this, thank you. And if you ever get to Salt Lake City, Utah, the drinks are on me.

I’m going to sound like I’m going off topic here, but bear with me, I promise I’m not.

Why do we lie to ourselves and each other? Rhetorical question. I believe at least one answer is because we are afraid of losing something. We lie to women because we don’t want to lose them as an “option.” We lie to them in order to get the pussy, to get laid. We lie because we get lonely. And women lie to us for similar reasons. We lie to ourselves because we put expectations on ourselves that we haven’t met. We don’t want to be losers. We don’t want to be seen as losers. We still care what other people think of us. We still give a fuck.

When you stop giving a fuck, you can be honest with yourself and with others. I’m not advocating intentional rudeness and being a douche or a sadistic prick. But when you are honest you become a breath of fresh air for yourself and for others, that’s the only way I can describe it. You let down your guard and they let theirs down too. That’s been my experience anyways. Don’t be naive and don’t eat paint (as Rian would say) but you get the idea. At least I hope you do.

I’m honest with the women that I meet and interact with. I know what I want, the question is, is it something that they want? If yes, great! Let’s do this! If not, no big deal. Thank you for your time, I enjoyed our moment, and it was a pleasure meeting you. And then move on.

Guys, I’m here to LIVE. I don’t have time for your morality crusade if that’s what you’re on. I don’t give a fuck about it. I want to live every moment to the hilt. I live in the present and I don’t dwell on the past. The past is the past. You can’t change it, undo it, or rewrite it, so fuck it, let it go. I don’t worry too much about the future either. “Men plan and God laughs.” I have ideas of where I want to go, what I want to see, and what I want to do, but I’m flexible enough to adapt as the situation warrants. And if it doesn’t work out the way that I envisioned? Fuck it. There’s always another opportunity. Or maybe, just maybe, it worked out even better than I had thought it would? Wrap your heads around that one.

I keep moving ever forward. I keep on keeping on. I learned to get out of my head and into my body. I stopped over-analyzing every little thing. I stopped overthinking things. Sometimes there is no hidden meaning there for you to discover. Sometimes the only meaning for something is whatever meaning you choose to give it. Sometimes things are only important because you give a fuck and make them important. The rest of the world doesn’t give a shit, so keep that in mind.

It’s kind of difficult for me to write about this subject because it requires me to give it a lot of thought and I’m used to just “doing” it. I guess I’ve “internalized” it or whatever.

I’m tired of rambling, so I’ll wrap it up with this:

Good times and bad times come and go. Women come and go. Nobody gives a shit, so neither should you. (Hey that rhymes! Sort of.) Stop being afraid of yourself and others. Start pushing the envelope and see what happens, you’ll find out more often than not, that people will go along with whatever it is you are doing or wanting to do. Be honest with yourself about what you want. Ideally, be honest with others about it too. They can’t actually use it against you as a weapon if you do. And if they do? You’ll survive. You’ll still find yourself standing. If you do fall on your ass though, or get put on your ass? Get back up and keep going.

Guys, for the record, this isn’t despair or nihilism. This is life. It is what it is. You can choose to enjoy it or you can be miserable in it. It’s up to you.

Go back and read the last year of my blog. Besides my love affair with women, and a few rants, all of what I’ve been talking about here is in there in one form or another.

Sharpen Your Mind. Weaponize It. Start here and here. Sign up for my newsletter.

2 thoughts on “Stoicism

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s