Stoicism

“High hopes, low expectations” has become something of a personal mantra for me. I could probably build an entire comedy routine around this concept. Many people navigate through life perpetually disappointed for one simple reason: their expectations tower far above reality. Whether in relationships, careers, or personal endeavors, they set themselves up for endless disappointment by expecting perfection in an imperfect world.

Being present means consciously inhabiting the current moment—experiencing life as it unfolds without the constant intrusion of past regrets or future anxieties. This state of attentional presence forms a cornerstone of numerous spiritual and philosophical traditions, from Buddhism and mindfulness practice to Stoicism. It’s also foundational to evidence-based therapeutic approaches like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which teaches patients to anchor awareness in the present rather than spiraling into maladaptive thought patterns.

While many modern psychological approaches have come and gone, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) stands out as a practical, evidence-based method for changing harmful thought patterns and behaviors. What’s fascinating is that its core principles were developed thousands of years ago by the Stoics. CBT is among the most well-researched and effective forms of therapy available today, with countless studies demonstrating its efficacy for treating depression, anxiety, and other conditions1. Yet long before modern psychology existed, Stoic philosophers like Epictetus, Seneca, and Marcus Aurelius were advocating remarkably similar techniques.

The most challenging relationships I’ve experienced, both personal and professional, have involved highly neurotic individuals. By neuroticism, I mean a tendency toward emotional instability—characterized by inconsistency, excessive anxiety, disproportionate reactions to minor issues, and sometimes aggressive responses to everyday stressors. Understanding Neuroticism # Neuroticism exists on a spectrum. A moderate level of concern about potential problems can be productive—it helps us prepare and plan. But when these feelings become overwhelming or trigger reactions that damage relationships, they cross into problematic territory.

I’ve been thinking about the relationship between friendship and therapy in our modern world. It’s become increasingly common to suggest therapy as the default solution for nearly every emotional challenge—as if paying a professional to listen will magically transform our circumstances or instantly resolve our deepest struggles. To be clear: therapy can be valuable and even essential for many people, particularly those dealing with clinical conditions or processing trauma. But I wonder if we’ve overlooked something fundamental in our rush to professionalize emotional support—the irreplaceable value of genuine friendship.

I was recently trolling someone on Reddit, and in a brief (and regrettable) fit of passion I made a remark only I could love about “transcending the bullshit”. I have often repeated that I intend to one day publish a book titled “Everything is Bullshit”, in honour of the late David Graeber’s Bullshit Jobs, but extending to pretty much all facets of society.