On the Stoic Art of Distance: Choosing Peace Over Proximity
A t 67 years old, I’ve decided that serenity isn’t just a pleasant ideal—it’s essential, and it rarely comes without effort. It takes discernment, restraint, and often, a willingness to step back. Peace of mind isn’t up for negotiation—especially around those who thrive on emotional upheaval and/or sincerely believe their unchecked opinions are immutable truths. Some of my family members speak with such absolute certainty that you’d think disagreement was an act of heresy. Every conversation risks a storm, so for years, I did my best to reason with them. I sought common ground, more-or-less embodying Christian and Stoic virtues: patience, understanding, keeping my cool. But, after countless gatherings ending in exhaustion—blood pressure climbing, blood sugar spiking, energy vanishing for days—it's become clear: this isn't just about clashing philosophies or politics; it's about my health, physically and mentally. Stoicism, as I see it, doesn’t demand martyrdom for the sake ...