For years,
This was my pattern,
Right?
I'd read another Stoic book,
Highlight the passages,
Feel wiser for a day or a week or maybe two,
And then something would trigger me,
An email,
Conversation,
A comment that landed wrong,
And then I'd react like I'd never read a word of philosophy.
I remember one moment in particular,
And this was fairly recent.
It was last year,
And that's why I remember it.
I was in a conversation with someone on the phone,
And it was about an important topic.
I could feel the conversation start to go sideways.
I could feel the tension rising,
The irrationality entering into the chat,
The tightening in my chest,
The voice getting sharper,
And I knew what was happening.
I'd studied this.
I could quote Epictetus on impulse control,
And yet I still did the thing that my wiser self wouldn't do.
I said something sharp.
I said something that made conflict more likely rather than less likely,
The kind of thing that sounds justified for maybe three seconds,
And then you watch it land,
And you wish you could just rewind time and pull it back.
The conversation ended badly,
Which I knew it would,
And I sat alone running the replay in my head analyzing what I could have done differently,
And I just realized,
Right,
I knew better then,
But why didn't I do better?
And this is a question I used to think about a lot.
Why is self-awareness not enough,
Right?
Because this wasn't a one-time thing.
This kind of thing used to happen a lot more years ago,
And I was consuming more and more Stoic wisdom,
But my actual behavior wasn't changing as quickly as I would have liked.
Then eventually,
I found what I was missing.
We'll talk about that in detail in the next episode.
Today,
I wanna focus on this gap though,
Right?
So I don't think I'm alone in experiencing this,
And I don't think you are either.
If you spend any time in Stoicism,
Any time at all,
You've probably had your own version of this experience I described,
Right?
The email lands,
Your stomach drops,
You know you're supposed to separate what's in your control from what isn't,
But you just don't run that algorithm right then.
You just spiral,
And you refresh,
And spiral,
And refresh.
The criticism stings.
You know Epictetus says that other people's opinions are literally not your concern,
That they belong to the category of things not up to us.
You've read that passage many times,
And yet,
In the moment,
You're devastated,
Or defensive,
Or both.
Someone cuts you off in traffic.
You know what Marcus would say?
And you still mutter under your breath,
Or worse.
This is the gap,
The chasm between knowing and doing,
Between intellectual understanding and your lived response.
And here's what I've come to believe.
This gap is the central challenge of practicing philosophy.
It's not just a glitch,
It's the entire game.
Even Seneca wrote about this 2,
000 years ago.
In letter 94,
He essentially confessed,
We know what is right,
But we don't practice it.
We don't lack knowledge of the soul.
We lack application.
That line really stuck with me when I first read it,
Because it meant that my problem wasn't new.
It wasn't a modern thing.
It wasn't unique to me and my distracted modern brain.
The smartest man in Rome,
The richest person in the empire,
The tutor of an emperor,
Sat down with his pen and admitted,
I know what's right and I don't do it.
2,
000 years later,
We're still experiencing this exact same gap.
So why?
Why does the philosophy evaporate exactly when we need it most?
I spent years thinking about this.
And then I eventually landed on something that honestly sounds pretty obvious,
But like a lot of the best ideas,
Don't be fooled by their simplicity.
The implications are pretty deep.
And this is it.
Intellectual understanding is not the same as embodied skill.
Let's make this more concrete,
Right?
So you can read a book about swimming.
You can study the biomechanics,
The arm movements,
The breathing patterns,
The kick timing.
You can watch Olympic footage frame by frame.
You can become the world's leading academic expert on freestyle technique.
And then you jump in the water and you sink.
Why?
Well,
Because knowing how to swim and being able to swim are completely different things.
One lives in your head,
The other lives in your body and nervous system and muscle memory.
Swimming is not a knowing,
It's a capacity.
And stoicism is the same.
Knowing that you shouldn't worry about things outside of your control is not the same as being able to stay calm when your flight gets canceled and you're going to miss your daughter's recital.
Knowing that anger harms you more than the target of your anger is not the same as being able to pause before you fire off the email,
Before you say the thing,
Before you make the decision that you can't take back.
These aren't knowledge problems,
They're training problems.
And the Stoics understood this and that's exactly why they didn't just write philosophy,
They practiced it daily,
Rigorously in community.
Epictetus didn't give lectures and send people home.
He ran a school,
Students lived there.
They did exercises every single day.
They trained their responses like athletes train their bodies.
Marcus Aurelius wrote the meditations not as a book for readers,
He wrote it as a practice for himself,
A training regimen.
The same thoughts over and over again,
Drilling them into his mind so they'd be there when he needed them.
Musonius Rufus,
Epictetus' teacher,
Said something that,
To be honest,
Changed how I thought about all of this.
He said that there's no point in philosophical doctrines unless they lead to virtue.
That's like saying there's no point in medical knowledge unless it actually heals people.
The Stoics weren't just trying to build a fancy library,
They were building a gymnasium for the soul.
And somewhere along the way,
We forgot that.
We turned a training system into a reading habit.
We made Stoicism into content to consume rather than a discipline to practice.
And then we wonder why the philosophy isn't there when we need it.
Here's what I had to admit to myself years ago,
Right?
And it was uncomfortable.
More reading is not gonna fix anything.
I've read dozens of Stoicism books,
I owned lots of translations of the meditations,
I had Seneca's letters practically memorized in certain places,
And the gap was still there.
The gap between what I knew and what I did in the moment hadn't closed proportionally to what I was reading.
Collecting more quotes wasn't gonna fix it either.
My Notes app was full of Stoic wisdom,
Beautifully organized,
Albeit tagged and cross-referenced.
I'm quite into the whole building a second brain type of organization,
But anyway,
Those quotes didn't show up when I needed them,
And when my heart was racing and my ego was threatened,
I wasn't finding myself scrolling through my Notes looking for Marcus Aurelius,
I was just triggered.
And listening to more podcasts wasn't going to fix it either.
I'm not knocking my own podcast here,
Obviously.
I hope that even me telling you this is still on some level useful and imparts some wisdom.
I could pour more and more knowledge into my head,
And what was already there would just slosh around to make room.
The container itself didn't change.
And if more reading were the answer,
I would have been a sage after the first three books.
Instead,
I was still having these same reactions,
The same regrets,
The same gaps that existed.
So the bottleneck,
It wasn't input.
What was it then?
It was practice.
Once I understood that,
Once I really accepted it,
Things started to shift,
Slowly,
Over months,
But through consistent,
Structured practice,
Not through more consumption,
They shifted.
Now,
The gap didn't disappear.
I'm not claiming enlightenment,
But it did narrow,
And the reactions became less frequent.
And when they did happen,
I caught myself a lot faster.
I recovered in minutes instead of hours.
And that's what's possible here.
It's not about perfection.
It's about real,
Measurable progress.
You might be asking,
Well,
Fair enough,
So what does work?
And I think the answer is exactly what the Stoics prescribed.
Practice,
Real,
Structured,
Repeated practice.
Not,
I'll try to be more Stoic today.
That's quite a vague intention.
Vague intentions evaporate by noon.
I mean specific exercises then consistently with structure and ideally some form of accountability.
The Stoics had these practices,
The morning preparation,
Marcus's routine of rehearsing the difficulties he'd face,
The evening reflection,
Seneca's practice of cross-examining himself each night.
The premeditation of adversity,
The view from above,
The discipline of ascent.
These weren't just ideas they wrote about.
They were things they did every day,
Whether they felt like it or not.
And if you look closely,
You'll notice the Stoics didn't practice alone.
Epictetus had a school.
Seneca wrote letters to Lucilius expecting responses back.
Marcus had his philosophers at court.
Even the solitary practice was embedded in some form of community or accountability.
Less reading,
More repetition.
Less consumption,
More practice.
That's the path across the gap.
At least it's the path that worked for me and I'll share more about what that looks like in the next episode on this podcast.
For now,
I want to leave you with just one question.
Not for me,
But for yourself in the quiet after this episode ends.
When was the last time you knew exactly what to do and you didn't do it?
Don't answer quickly.
I want you to really sit with it.
Picture the moment,
The situation,
What you knew in your head versus what you actually did.
That gap between knowing and doing is real.
It's not evidence that you're broken.
It's not proof that the philosophy doesn't work.
It's not a personal failing.
It's a training problem and training problems have training solutions.
The Stoics understood that philosophy isn't something you read once and absorb.
It's something you practice,
Fail at,
Practice again and fail again and slowly over the years get better at.
I know because I've walked that path and yeah,
I'm still on it,
But I'm further along than I was five years ago.
The practices work if you actually do them.
The gap between knowing and doing is where the real work lives.
Thank you for listening and I'll be back here with more soon.
