Anxiety is one of the defining struggles of modern life. We worry about money, about relationships, about our health, about the future, about things we said years ago, about things that haven’t happened yet and probably never will. The mind races. Sleep suffers. We carry tension in our shoulders and a low hum of dread in the background of otherwise ordinary days.
It can feel like a uniquely modern problem, the product of social media, 24-hour news cycles, and a world that moves too fast. But the truth is that the ancient philosophers were dealing with the same restless mind two thousand years ago, and some of the most effective tools they developed for managing it come from Stoic philosophy.
The Stoics did not have a word for “anxiety” in the clinical sense we use today, but they wrote extensively about what they called tarache, a disturbance or agitation of the mind. Seneca dedicated entire letters to the subject of worry. Epictetus built his teaching around the idea that our suffering comes not from events themselves but from our judgements about them. And Marcus Aurelius, who spent much of his life dealing with war, plague, betrayal, and the pressures of leading the Roman Empire, filled his private journal with reminders to himself about how to keep a calm and steady mind.
What the Stoics understood, and what modern psychology is increasingly confirming, is that anxiety is not primarily caused by what is happening around us. It is caused by what is happening inside us: our interpretations, our projections, our habit of mentally living in a future that does not yet exist. The Stoic approach to anxiety is not to pretend everything is fine. It is to change your relationship with your own thinking.
Below is a practical guide to how the Stoics approached worry, drawn from their original writings and organised around the principles that are most useful for managing anxiety today.
1. Most of What You Fear Will Never Happen
Seneca wrote what is perhaps the single most useful sentence ever written about anxiety:
“We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.”
This is not a platitude. It is an observation backed by centuries of philosophical practice and, more recently, by clinical research. Studies in cognitive psychology have consistently shown that the vast majority of the things people worry about never actually come to pass, and of the things that do, most are far less painful than imagined.
The Stoics noticed this pattern long before the research existed. Seneca pointed out that we mentally rehearse disasters that never arrive, and in doing so, we suffer twice: once in anticipation and once (if it happens at all) in reality. The anticipation is often worse than the event itself, because when a real problem arrives, we can act. When we are only imagining a problem, we are helpless against our own mind.
The Stoic remedy is not to tell yourself “everything will be fine.” It is to notice when you are suffering from something imaginary and to ask yourself a simple question: is this happening right now, or am I living in a story my mind has created?
Marcus Aurelius put it this way: “Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.”
The future is not here yet. When it arrives, you will deal with it. Until then, the worry serves no purpose.
2. Separate What You Can Control from What You Cannot
The foundation of Stoic philosophy is the Dichotomy of Control, first articulated clearly by Epictetus:
“Some things are within our power, while others are not. Within our power are opinion, motivation, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever is of our own doing. Not within our power are our body, our property, reputation, office, and, in a word, whatever is not of our own doing.”
Most anxiety comes from fixating on things in the second category. We worry about what other people think of us. We worry about whether we will get ill. We worry about the economy, the weather, the outcome of a decision someone else is making. None of these things are within our control, and yet we spend enormous amounts of mental energy on them.
The Stoic practice is to catch yourself when you are worrying and ask: is this within my control? If it is, then stop worrying and take action. If it is not, then the worry is not protecting you. It is only consuming you.
This does not mean you become indifferent to outcomes. It means you redirect your energy from worrying about results to focusing on your own effort, your own preparation, and your own response. These are always within your control.
Epictetus summarised the entire principle in a single line: “There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of your will.”
3. Challenge Your Judgements
One of the most powerful Stoic insights, and one that directly influenced modern Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, is that events do not disturb us. Our judgements about events disturb us.
Epictetus taught this principle repeatedly: “It is not things that disturb us, but our judgements about things.”
When something happens, we instantly and automatically assign a judgement to it. We label it as “bad” or “terrible” or “the worst thing that could happen.” This judgement then triggers an emotional response: fear, panic, despair. But the judgement itself is often inaccurate, exaggerated, or based on incomplete information.
The Stoic practice, which Epictetus called the Discipline of Assent, is to pause before accepting your initial impression of an event and examine it. Is this really as bad as my mind is telling me it is? Am I adding something to the situation that is not actually there? What would a calm, rational person see when they look at this same situation?
Marcus Aurelius practised this constantly. In his Meditations, he would strip events down to their bare reality, removing the emotional narrative his mind had layered on top. A lavish banquet becomes “dead fish and dead birds.” Imperial purple becomes “sheep’s wool dyed in shellfish blood.” The point is not to be grim. The point is to see things as they actually are, free from the judgements that generate unnecessary suffering.
When applied to anxiety, this practice is remarkably effective. The next time you notice yourself spiralling, try describing the situation in the plainest, most factual language possible. Strip out the story. Strip out the catastrophising. What is actually happening, right now, in front of you? Often, the answer is far less frightening than the narrative your mind has constructed.
4. Prepare for Difficulty, Don’t Just Fear It
The Stoics had a practice called premeditatio malorum, which translates roughly as “the premeditation of evils.” At first glance, this sounds like the opposite of what an anxious person should do. Why would you deliberately think about bad things happening?
The answer lies in the distinction between worrying and preparing. Worrying is passive, repetitive, and uncontrolled. It loops endlessly without resolution. Premeditatio malorum is active, deliberate, and structured. You sit down, think through what could go wrong, consider how you would respond, and then move on.
Seneca described the practice this way: “The wise man thinks about his troubles beforehand, not to make them worse, but to take the sting out of them when they arrive. The unexpected blows of fortune fall heaviest and most painfully.”
The key insight is that much of anxiety’s power comes from the unknown. We fear what we cannot see. When you deliberately face a potential difficulty, think it through clearly, and plan your response, the fear loses much of its grip. You are no longer running from a shadow. You are standing in the light, prepared.
This is not about expecting the worst. It is about removing the element of surprise so that if difficulty does arrive, you meet it with calm composure rather than panic.
5. Return to the Present Moment
Anxiety is almost always about the future. It pulls you out of the present moment and into a mental simulation of something that has not happened yet. The Stoics recognised this and repeatedly instructed their students to bring their attention back to what is actually in front of them.
Marcus Aurelius wrote: “Do not disturb yourself by picturing your life as a whole. Do not assemble in your mind the many varied troubles which have come to you in the past or still may come in the future. Instead, ask yourself with regard to every present difficulty: what is there in this that is unbearable and beyond endurance?”
This is the Stoic version of mindfulness, and it works for the same reason. When you zoom in on the present moment, most anxiety dissolves, because the present moment is usually manageable. It is only when you mentally stack all possible future moments on top of each other that the weight becomes unbearable.
The practice is simple but requires repetition: when you notice your mind racing ahead, gently pull it back to now. What is happening right now? What can you do right now? That is enough.
6. Accept What Has Already Happened
A significant portion of what we call anxiety is actually resistance to things that have already occurred. We replay past events, wishing they had gone differently. We ruminate on conversations, on mistakes, on decisions we cannot unmake. This is not planning. It is not preparation. It is simply suffering about something that is already behind us.
The Stoic practice of Amor Fati, or the love of fate, addresses this directly. It does not ask you to pretend that bad things are good. It asks you to accept that what has happened has happened, and that your energy is better spent responding to reality than wishing reality were different.
Epictetus put it bluntly: “Demand not that events should happen as you wish; but wish them to happen as they do happen, and you will go on well.”
This is not resignation. It is the decision to stop fighting a battle that is already over so that you can direct your full attention to what comes next.
7. Remember That You Are Mortal
This may sound counterintuitive for someone struggling with anxiety, but the Stoic practice of Memento Mori, remembering that you will die, can be a powerful antidote to worry.
The reason is perspective. Most of the things we worry about are trivially small when measured against the span of a human life, let alone the span of the universe. Marcus Aurelius reminded himself of this constantly: “Think of the life you have lived until now: a life of changes and chances. Think of the whole of existence, and how small your share of it is.”
When you remember that your time is limited, the petty anxieties tend to fall away. The awkward email you sent last Tuesday stops mattering. The opinion of someone you barely know stops mattering. What remains are the things that actually deserve your attention: your character, your relationships, your health, and how you choose to spend the limited time you have.
Seneca captured this with characteristic directness: “It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a great deal of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realise that it has passed away before we knew it was passing.”
Worrying is one of the most common ways we waste the time we have. The Stoics would say: you do not have time for anxiety. You have a life to live.
Stoicism and Modern Anxiety: The Connection to CBT
It is worth noting that the connection between Stoic philosophy and modern approaches to anxiety is not metaphorical. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, one of the most widely used and evidence-based treatments for anxiety disorders, was directly influenced by Stoic philosophy. Aaron Beck and Albert Ellis, the founders of CBT, both acknowledged the Stoics as a primary intellectual source.
The core mechanism of CBT, identifying and challenging distorted thinking patterns, is essentially the Discipline of Assent that Epictetus taught two thousand years ago. The language is different. The clinical framework is more structured. But the underlying insight is identical: your thoughts about a situation cause more suffering than the situation itself, and by changing your thoughts, you can change your emotional response.
This does not mean that Stoicism is a replacement for professional mental health support. If you are experiencing clinical anxiety, the Stoics themselves would encourage you to seek the best help available, just as you would see a doctor for a physical ailment. But as a daily practice for managing the ordinary worries and fears that affect all of us, the Stoic toolkit is remarkably effective, and it has been tested by millions of people over more than two thousand years.
Practical Stoic Exercises for Anxiety
Here is a simple daily practice drawn from the Stoic exercises above. None of these require special equipment, training, or belief. They only require a few minutes of honest attention.
Morning (2 minutes): Before you start your day, briefly consider what might go wrong today. Not to catastrophise, but to prepare. Think through how you would respond calmly. This is premeditatio malorum in its simplest form.
During the day (as needed): When you notice anxiety rising, pause and ask two questions. First: is this within my control? If yes, act. If no, release it. Second: am I reacting to something real, or to a story my mind has created?
Evening (5 minutes): Review your day briefly, as Seneca did. Where did you respond well? Where did you let worry take control? What can you do differently tomorrow? This is not self-criticism. It is self-awareness, practised with the same compassion you would offer a friend.
Over time, these small habits compound. The anxious mind does not change overnight, but it does change. The Stoics knew this. As Epictetus reminded his students: it is not enough to learn these principles once. You must practise them, daily, until they become part of your character.
Anxiety is not a flaw. It is a feature of being a conscious, thinking human being who cares about the future. The Stoics did not try to eliminate it entirely. They tried to manage it wisely, to stop it from consuming more of their lives than it deserved, and to redirect the energy it wasted toward things that actually mattered.
Their approach was not mystical or complicated. It was practical, repeatable, and grounded in a clear understanding of how the human mind works. Focus on what you can control. Challenge your judgements. Prepare for difficulty rather than fearing it. Stay in the present. Accept what has already happened. And remember, always, that your time is limited and too valuable to spend on imaginary problems.
If these ideas resonated with you, you might also find value in our guides on how to be a Stoic, the Stoic virtues, and our quotes collections on resilience, discipline, and overthinking.
