The Vulcans were inspired by a misunderstanding of Stoic philosophy,  I’ve read.  Their rigour in logic is commendable,  but we students of Stoicism can see clearly that something there is lacking.

Namely, an understanding of eupathos, or the healthy emotions, such as cheerfulness and well-wishing.  The person who lives and loves as a Stoic is not a robot, and is not torn between two natures as was Mr. Spock.

Looking at the passing of the actor who presented to many folks the archetypal representation of logic over passion, I find myself in a thoughtful mood.  Some of which is the ‘momento mori’ whenever such a figure passes, and also about impressions.  Both the fantasia of our school and the marks we leave on others as we pass.

The Japanese say that a person dies twice, once at physical death and once again as the last living person who remembers our name also dies.

We could stand by the walls of the temple and inform every passerby that it is *our* name inscribed there, for posterity to see.  But eventually,  this too will pass away.  The memories of Mr. Nemoy and Mr. Spock will probably have a bit more playing time than mine will.  But this, too, is okay.

Live enough, and be good while you may.

Stoicism is sharply lacking in easily identifiable iconography.  In some ways, this makes sense, since Epictetus’s injunction:

“Never call yourself a philosopher, nor talk a great deal among the unlearned about theorems, but act conformably to them.”

—Enchiridion, 46

However, keeping in mind that his audience was mostly aristocratic boys, boys whom he was trying to turn into men, the injunction is actually one against vanity and puffed-up-edness, not identifying with the School.  Philosophers of the day were known by their School, and it’s fine and appropriate that we could be, too.  The warning against vanity is still relevant, however.

We recognize the Star of David, the Crucifix, the Christian fish, the Islamic Star and Crescent.  Some will know the Nine Pointed Star of the Bahá’í Faith, the Hindu Wheel of Life, the Buddhist Heart, the Khanda of the Sikhs, etc.  Stoicism has no classic iconography, and it’s something which I think it is sort of lacking.  Some friends and I bandied about a few different designs, the one I started with was a simple Greek Lambda, for the Logos on a black circle.  It had a certain Spartan feel (intentional), but eventually I came up with a different one which I quite liked a bit better.

(Copyright submitted 2015)

This is a representation of Epictetus’s Lamp.  It reminds us of the story of the stolen silver lamp, the price of being vicious (to be faithless and base), and to not be overly concerned by external things.  It is emblematical of the creative fire which is pneuma and the logos, the illumination of philosophy in the darkness, and the obligation to light the way for others so far as we are able, Fate permitting.  The lamp is circumscribed by a circle which has no beginning and no end; and which reminds us to keep our passions within due bounds, that the only good and evil are our own moral good and evil, and to delimit the present.  The colors of the logo are black and white, which signify the harsh division between virtue and vice, between making progress and vulgar living, between the dark and the light. Overall, I’m very pleased with the design.  I will use this as a personal icon for my Stoic practice, what it means to me, and the context in which my actions take place.  If other folks have made their own symbols, I would be interested in learning about them. A few others currently exist, for those who are interested: – The four-pointed flame – New Stoa and The College of Stoic Philosophers have several symbols as well.

We often wish people a Happy New Year today, and I thought I would take a Stoic twist on that and offer you a Happy New Year. For those of us interested in philosophy, what constitutes a “happy new year” is a little bit different than the mundane way that that salutation is used by most people.

We know that eudaimonia is often translated as “happiness” in English but carries a deeper meaning for us. We seek to keep our internal states in a manner conformable to nature, to exercise our faculties excellently, and above all to give mindful attention to ourselves, our thoughts and judgements, our actions, and our social roles.

Even if the folks wishing you well don’t quite mean what we might by the greeting, use it as a reminder for living our philosophy each day.

So in the spirit of the new year, I wish you excellence, virtue, and happiness.

Eudaimon New Year!

Nuggets of wisdom from tv which the Stoics would likely approve of:

“It’s nicer, it’s easier… but it’s not *better*.”
— Надеҗда (Elizabeth Jennings, The Americans)

Taken out of context,  of course.  It can be taken as a reminder to focus not on the indifferent things, like comfort, but for we philosophers, those things which contribute to our eudaimon excellence.

It’s an interesting phemonon when one’s perspective starts to shift to filter things through a given lens.  A short bit of mental reprieve from the work week in the form of t.v. becomes a moral lesson in philosophy which surely the writers did not intend.

What bit of entertainment has lessons next week? Tune in, same Bat-time….

So I found myself taking a Stoic approach today.  Every six months, my job hinges on a skills test.  I was getting a little stressed because I had some rust to shake off and the test was a new one.  But I had this thought, “I’m having anxious thoughts.  I’m entertaining feelings of stress. If I fail then I fail.  Nothing else.” 

And sort unbiddenly, I took a mental step back.  The thoughts and impressions were still there but on the outside and something I was “looking” at, and not something happening to me per se.

Anyway, it certainly felt like progress!