One of the most memorable classes I took during my undergraduate years at Northern Arizona University was Philosophy 101. I was especially captivated by the teachings of Immanuel Kant, particularly his ideas around categorical imperatives. The notion that lying is always morally wrong, even in situations where most people would instinctively lie, was both perplexing and fascinating. Take, for example, the idea that if an intruder broke into your home and asked where your children were hiding, Kant would argue that telling a lie, even then, would be inherently wrong, even though everyone would do it. I was struck by the stark simplicity of such a complex moral stance. But what truly stayed with me wasn’t just philosophy; it was my professor. She didn’t own a television, believing it to be a distraction from present-moment living and a waste of precious time on earth. I’d never heard anyone speak with such grounded certainty about something that, on the surface, sounded so… boring.
In recent years, there’s been a surge of interest in Stoic philosophy as a guide for modern life. Bestselling authors like Ryan Holiday (The Obstacle Is the Way, The Daily Stoic, which I’m currently reading!) have shown millions how ancient wisdom can help us manage stress and find inner peace. One of Stoicism’s core teachings is that while we can’t control most of what happens around us, we can control how we respond. By exercising reason, accepting what we cannot change, and focusing on our own thoughts and actions, we can find tranquility amid chaos. In recent years, I’ve enjoyed adding readings on stoicism to my daily practice and appreciate the thoughtful pause it provides; I often contemplate in small bites and reflect on the principles throughout the day. I was fortunate enough to hear Ryan talk about Stoicism at a live event in San Diego, and I was so impressed with his grounded stance and seemingly effortless comfort with the material. It was clear to me that the practice and information are deep in his bones.
Stoicism teaches that if we stop worrying about things outside our control (like other people’s decisions or random events) and instead focus on our own choices, we suffer less and thrive more. The Stoic teacher Epictetus put it simply: “It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.” Modern Stoics such as Ryan Holiday often talk about the “Dichotomy of Control” – the distinction between what we control and what we don’t – as the foundation of resilience. By training your mind to accept external events and concentrate on your own will and attitude, you build a strong core that helps you stay calm and clear-headed when life gets tough. It’s not about feeling nothing; it’s about not letting your feelings control you. As Holiday writes, “Control your perceptions… Willingly accept what’s outside your control.” This means acknowledging that pain, stress, and setbacks are inevitable, but they don’t have to break you or define you.
Another key Stoic principle is present-moment focus. The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations, “Confine yourself to the present”. In plainer terms: don’t get dragged along by fears of the future or regrets about the past; life is happening now, and now is the only time we ever truly live. Holiday echoes this, noting how we’re constantly tempted to get thrown off by distractions, annoyances, or anxieties, and that the Stoic way is to come back to what’s in front of us and take it one step at a time. The ability to pause, take a breath, and respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively is what the Stoics consider real strength and freedom. I believe this concept is at the heart of most treatment plans written by therapists, expressing the goals their clients have for their own healing.
Reading these ideas, we might picture ourselves becoming serene sages, Zen Buddha-like people, no longer triggered by rude emails, bad traffic, or unexpected life events. And indeed, Stoic philosophy can be life-changing, giving us tools to turn adversity into growth and respond with grace under pressure. But here’s the hard truth: if you’ve experienced trauma, there may be times when all that wise advice feels impossible to follow. You might know you want to “just accept and let go,” yet your body and emotions aren’t on board. Maybe you tell yourself to stay calm, but your heart is pounding, your hands are shaking, or you feel rage or panic take over in an instant. When that happens, the Stoic ideal of choosing your response can feel impossible.
If that sounds familiar, let me assure you – you’re not failing to be resilient or calm. What you’re experiencing is the way trauma can hijack your brain and body. To borrow a phrase from trauma psychology, “trauma hijacks the brain’s survival systems, shutting down higher-order thinking.” In other words, when you feel unsafe, your brain shifts into survival mode, and your rational mind temporarily goes offline. Let’s explore why that happens and how we can bridge the gap between Stoic calm and a trauma-charged nervous system.
When Trauma Hijacks the Mind and Body
To understand why trauma makes it so hard to “think straight” or “remain stoic” in the heat of the moment, we need to look at what trauma does to the brain and body. Deep in our brains lies the limbic system, home to the amygdala (our brain’s alarm center) and the hippocampus (a key memory processor), both of which play a crucial role in detecting danger and triggering our survival responses. When something reminds a trauma survivor of past danger (a trigger or reminder), this system can go into overdrive. If this weren’t a biological concept, all therapists would be out of business, as we could all just “calm down” because we decide it’s what we need.
Here’s a simplified picture: under sudden threat, your amygdala fires off the “fight-flight-freeze” response to save your life. Stress hormones like adrenaline surge, your heart races, and blood rushes to your muscles. Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex, the thinking, reasoning part of your brain, essentially “goes offline” in that crisis moment. Your brain’s mission when you’re in extreme fear is survival, not philosophical reflection. There’s no time for careful deliberation when you’re facing what feels like life or death. Complex thought and even speech get dialed down as your body prepares to react fast.
This is why you might “snap” with anger or panic before you even know what’s happening. I often refer to my clients as “flipping your lid” because that limbic response is 1 million times faster than reason or logic. It’s why your usual ability to step back and analyze a situation (like asking “What would Marcus Aurelius do?”) can vanish in an instant. Some common trauma responses, like emotional flooding (sudden overwhelm by fear, grief, or anger) or explosive reactions, happen when your brain’s alarm center seizes control while the logical brain is scrambling to catch up.
Other trauma responses show the same dynamic. The Stoics praised self-control and courage, but in a traumatic flashback or anxiety attack, you might feel utterly helpless, frozen, or detached. In fact, freezing up or dissociating (feeling “checked out” or unreal) is not a failure of your character or willpower; it’s a survival strategy your brain sometimes uses when fight-or-flight isn’t possible. Think of a mouse playing dead when caught by a cat: that shutdown response is the nervous system’s last-ditch effort to protect you. These reflexes or reactions to the environment can persist long after the actual danger is gone. People with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), for example, often have an overactive alarm system; the amygdala stays on high alert, and the thinking brain has trouble regaining control, leading to strong emotional reactions and difficulty recognizing when you’re actually safe. Your body might flinch at a loud sound, or your anxiety might spike in a seemingly harmless situation. It’s as if part of you is always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I see this all the time in my practice as a trauma therapist. In my podcast Adaptable: Behavior Explained, I often talk about how the very symptoms my clients struggle with – the panic, the hypervigilance, the nightmares, the urge to withdraw, or the sudden outbursts – are actually the lingering traces of the body’s past protective habits. In one conversation, we noted that these behaviors “were once necessary survival mechanisms,” responses learned during trauma, even if they’ve become painful or disruptive now. Once upon a time, that constant scanning for danger did keep you safe. That emotional numbing did help you endure overwhelming pain. These ingrained reactions are your nervous system’s way of saying, “I never want to go through that again.” Unfortunately, the flipside is that the same survival wiring can now keep you on edge. I often say that adaptation was just too much of a good thing.
Because trauma often comes with feelings of shame and self-blame, let’s be absolutely clear: Your intense reactions are not personal failings or weaknesses. Trauma survivors frequently feel like they’re “crazy” or “weak” for getting so upset, or they carry guilt for not handling past events “better.” But what you see as overreactions or flaws are usually your nervous system’s way of protecting you. They’re deeply ingrained patterns, not evidence of a lack of character. In fact, many trauma survivors struggle with the belief that “I am not enough” or “something is wrong with me” – this is the voice of trauma, not truth. Part of healing is learning to replace that harsh inner voice with compassion, recognizing that you did the best you could under the circumstances. I often remind people (and myself) that you survived, and that is proof of your strength. When we “shine the light of self-compassion” on these reactions, the weight of shame can begin to lift. You are not broken; you are healing.
So, if you’ve found it hard to “just calm down” or “think positive” as the Stoics advise, please know that you’re not a lost cause or “bad at” it. Your body just might not feel safe enough yet to let your mind call the shots. Safety is the foundation of all higher thinking. You wouldn’t expect to be able to calmly recite philosophical maxims while outrunning a tiger. Likewise, if part of you still feels under threat (even if you’re not consciously aware of it), it’s going to be really hard to access your logical, grounded mind during moments of distress.
The encouraging news is that trauma doesn’t have to be the end of your resilience or your Stoic journey. It simply means we have some healing and rebalancing to do, so that your mind and body can finally work together. For someone who has endured trauma, embracing Stoicism fully might first require learning how to gently soothe and retrain an over-activated nervous system. That’s where modern psychology, mindfulness, and Stoic practices can come together beautifully. Let’s look at how blending these approaches can help bridge the gap between knowing a philosophy and living it.
Bridging Stoicism and Healing: Wisdom Meets the Nervous System
The divide between Stoic ideals and the realities of trauma can feel frustrating, but it is bridgeable and can become more of an intersection. In fact, modern psychology and ancient philosophy are not at odds here; they very much complement each other. By caring for your body and emotional health, you pave the way for your mind to practice Stoic principles more effectively. Conversely, adopting Stoic perspectives can give your healing journey meaning and guidance.
Let’s explore a few key Stoic concepts, the trauma-related challenges that can interfere with each, and trauma-informed practices to help you reclaim your calm and confidence:
Understanding the Gap: Stoic Principles vs. Trauma Responses (and Ways to Bridge Them)
| Stoic Principle | Why It’s Challenged by Trauma (Common Trauma Response) | How to Bridge the Gap (Trauma-Informed Practice) |
| Acceptance of what you can’t change (trusting the process, amor fati or “loving one’s fate”) | Hypervigilance and anxiety about uncertainty. Trauma can make the brain’s threat detector super sensitive, leading you to constantly scan for danger and worry about “what-if” scenarios. Accepting the present moment feels impossible when your body is always braced for the next bad thing. | Practice grounding techniques and mindfulness to anchor yourself in the present. For example, use the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise: name 5 things you see, 4 you can touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, 1 you taste. Engaging your senses signals your brain that you’re safe right now, interrupting the anxious cycle of hypervigilant thoughts. Over time, this helps your nervous system relax and makes acceptance of the moment feel more possible. |
| Focusing on What’s in Your Control (the Stoic Dichotomy of Control) | Helplessness or dissociation. Traumatic stress can leave you feeling powerless and detached. You might “check out” or feel numb when triggered, a form of dissociation. Other times, you might swing to the opposite extreme and try to control every little thing around you to feel safe. Either way, it’s hard to calmly discern what’s truly in your control (your own choices) versus what isn’t. | Reconnect with your body and surroundings through somatic practices (mind-body techniques). Simple methods like stretching, holding a grounding object, or pressing your feet into the floor can bring you back into your body. Trauma-informed yoga or tai chi can also gently reverse the “numbing” and help you feel present and empowered in your own skin. As you practice staying connected to your body and the here-and-now, you regain a sense of agency. From that steadier state, it becomes easier to identify small, manageable actions that are within your control, and let go of the rest. |
| Temperance & Reason (managing emotions through rational thinking) | Emotional flooding & impulsivity. When past trauma is triggered, you may experience overwhelming emotions (panic, anger, grief) that “hijack” your mind before you can think. In those moments, the Stoic ideal of responding with calm reason feels out of reach. You might react in ways you later regret or feel unable to contain the intensity of your feelings. | First, use breathing and “name it to tame it” techniques to soothe the surge. Slow, deep breathing signals your parasympathetic nervous system to calm your body. And naming what you feel (“I’m feeling panic”; “I’m feeling anger”) engages the thinking part of your brain and lowers the intensity of runaway emotions. Once you’re a bit calmer, practice the Stoic skill of cognitive reframing – consciously reinterpreting the situation to change its emotional meaning. Fascinatingly, studies show that reframing our thoughts in this way increases prefrontal cortex activity (restoring our rational thinking) and tames the amygdala’s alarm signal. With time, these practices strengthen your ability to experience strong feelings without being swept away by them. |
| Living with Virtue (integrity, compassion, courage toward self and others) | Shame, isolation, and distrust. Trauma survivors often carry deep shame or guilt, feeling “broken” or believing they are innately at fault. You might also find it hard to trust others (or yourself), leading to isolation. These burdens make it difficult to practice virtues like self-compassion, openness, or courage because you may not feel worthy of love or capable of bravery. | Self-compassion and connection. Recognize that your trauma responses (even the “messy” ones) are normal reactions to abnormal events. Remind yourself that you survived – which is proof of your courage and strength – and that you deserve kindness, not self-criticism. Therapists often encourage trauma survivors to develop compassion for the self that was hurt, realizing that you did the best you could with what you knew at the time. By gradually treating yourself with the same empathy you’d offer a dear friend, you chip away at toxic shame. You start to believe “I am a human who went through pain and still deserves love and peace,” just like anyone else. This growing self-kindness makes it possible to reconnect with others and practice virtues like honesty, trust, and courage from a place of strength and wholeness. |
Notice how Stoic wisdom and trauma science actually support each other. In fact, some therapeutic techniques for trauma closely mirror ancient Stoic exercises. For example, the Stoic practice of negative visualization (premeditatio malorum, or imagining how things could go wrong ahead of time) can be seen as an early form of stress inoculation: by visualizing potential challenges in advance, you teach your brain that you can face difficulties without collapsing, making real challenges feel more manageable. Modern cognitive reappraisal research, the scientific term for reframing your thoughts, shows that this skill activates the prefrontal cortex and calms the amygdala’s alarm, exactly what’s needed to manage trauma triggers. In my own sessions, I see clients make huge strides when they learn that they can observe a scary memory or emotion, name it, breathe through it, and watch it lessen in intensity. It’s like strength training for the mind and nervous system. Every time you practice staying present with a hard feeling and coming out safely on the other side, you build new neural pathways. Your brain starts to learn, “I can be upset and still be okay. I can choose my response.”
And what about that crucial Stoic ideal of living in the present moment? Trauma pulls us out of the present – either into painful reliving of the past or into anxious anticipation of future threats. To counter this, trauma therapists use what I call “presentification” – consciously anchoring yourself in right now – to help clients fully come back to the here-and-now. For instance, one exercise I often teach (the “back-of-the-head scale”) invites a person to check in with how present or “here” they feel, then uses sensory grounding (touching something, noticing sounds, focusing on breathing) to help them feel safer and more engaged in the current moment. These practices send a signal to the brain that “this moment is safe.” Only when your inner alarm system relaxes can you really inhabit the present and exercise what Stoics call proairesis, the ability to choose your response. In that grounded state, you become capable of practicing authentic acceptance, patience, and wisdom – the very qualities Stoicism encourages.
The Power of Now and Mindfulness: The “Missing Piece” in Healing
It’s worth noting that the idea of mindful, non-judgmental awareness runs through both ancient philosophy and modern healing practices. In the early 2000s, spiritual author Eckhart Tolle – in his widely influential book The Power of Now – introduced millions to the practice of observing one’s own thoughts without judgment, effectively becoming a calm witness to the mind’s activity. This “watching the thinker” approach helps you step back from the chatter in your head. Instead of being swept away by worries, anger, or other thoughts, you learn to observe them with a bit of distance, as if you were watching another person’s mental drama. The result is that thoughts and feelings have less hold over you; you create a space where you can choose how to respond rather than react automatically. This is strikingly similar to Stoic practices of examining one’s impressions and reminding oneself that “You are not your thoughts”. Both approaches encourage us to see thoughts and feelings as transient mental events, not as definitions of who we are.
Around the same time, Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, a pioneer in mind-body medicine (and a dear personal influence in my own healing journey and formal adoption of my meditation practice), played a key role in bringing mindfulness practices into Western healthcare. In 1979, he developed the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program, showing that ancient Eastern practices like meditation could be the missing piece in modern healing. Through MBSR, Kabat-Zinn provided scientific evidence that cultivating a non-judgmental, present-moment awareness can profoundly alter our relationship with stress, pain, and illness. In other words, learning to be fully present with our experience, here and now, without immediately judging or resisting it, has real healing power. This was a revolutionary idea in Western medicine at the time. Kabat-Zinn and others demonstrated that mindfulness practices help people with chronic pain, anxiety, and trauma find relief not by eliminating all negative feelings, but by changing how they relate to those feelings.
For those of us dealing with trauma, the lessons from Tolle’s and Kabat-Zinn’s work reinforce everything we’ve been talking about: mindfulness and present-moment awareness are key to regaining control of our inner lives. When you can gently ground yourself in the here and now – noticing your breath, feeling your feet on the floor, and observing your thoughts like leaves floating down a stream – you start to calm your oversensitized nervous system. In my experience, this kind of grounding often needs to come before the Stoic self-reflection can kick in. If you’re highly anxious or dissociated, telling yourself “focus only on what’s in my control” might not stick, if you even remember to do that. But if you take a moment to do a grounding exercise or a short meditation, you’ll likely feel your body shift: your heartbeat slows, your muscles unclench, your mind clears. Now your inner “wisdom” has a chance to speak and be heard.
In sum, mindfulness is not a woo-woo concept or en vogue buzzword; it’s a practical bridge back to the present. It reminds your brain and body that the past is over and you are safe right now. From that place of safety, you can apply Stoic principles far more easily. Over time, regularly practicing mindfulness (whether through meditation, prayer, yoga, or simple daily rituals of pausing and noticing) can reshape your brain. Your amygdala becomes less reactive, while your prefrontal cortex grows stronger at reigning in fear and anger. This kind of brain training is exactly what the Stoics were after with their daily exercises of reflection, meditation, and journaling – they just didn’t use the word “neuroplasticity” back in ancient Rome. But they knew that consistency was key. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “The things you think about determine the quality of your mind.” Regular mindfulness helps ensure your mind is on your side, not running away with you.
Finding Calm After the Storm: A Personal Note
I know firsthand that embracing Stoic wisdom while healing from trauma is a journey. In my own life, and in the lives of many trauma survivors I’ve worked with, the gap between knowing what you “should” do and actually being able to do it under stress is bridged slowly, with patience and support. If you’ve been frustrated with yourself, thinking, “Why can’t I just let go of the past? Why can’t I stay calm when I get triggered?” – Please take a deep breath. You are not alone, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with you. Healing from trauma is not as simple as flipping a mental switch. It’s a process of retraining your brain and body, much like a Stoic trains their mind day after day.
The ancient Stoic heroes, like Marcus Aurelius and Seneca, had no MRI machines or neuroscience textbooks, yet they understood that human beings are vulnerable creatures. We get angry, afraid, and hurt. Life will knock us off balance, sometimes very far off balance, and we need tools and community to find our center again. They counseled daily practice, honest self-reflection, and leaning on friends or mentors for that very reason. If you’re wrestling with a storm inside you, these sages wouldn’t label you “weak” or “failing.” In fact, Marcus Aurelius faced immense trauma (wars, plagues, the loss of many of his children) and still had days when he struggled to live up to his own advice. What made him a Stoic wasn’t that he was perfect, but that he kept trying, kept returning to his principles each day.
So, give yourself the same grace and perseverance. Healing your nervous system through EMDR therapy, mindfulness, or other supportive practices is not “cheating” on your philosophy; it’s what allows you to practice it fully. As you work on calming your body and healing your emotional wounds, you’re actually following the Stoic path: you’re taking responsibility for your own mind and well-being. Day by day, with practice, your body’s overactive defenses will gradually stand down as they learn that you are safe now. You’ll find it easier to take that Stoic pause before reacting, easier to sleep through the night, easier to face situations that once felt impossible. And when a challenge does arise, you’ll have both the wisdom of Stoicism and the tools of trauma recovery on your side.
In the end, the goal isn’t to become a perfect Stoic who never feels fear or anger. That’s not realistic – nor is it even desirable. The goal is to use every tool available to help you live with greater calm, courage, and clarity. Stoic philosophy offers timeless guidance for the mind and soul, and trauma-informed practices offer grounded methods to care for the body and heart that have carried pain. With both, you can learn not only to survive life’s trials, but to meet them with a steadier spirit and a compassionate heart – turning adversity into growth, and pain into purpose.
You’ve been through the worst, and you’re still here. That, to me, makes you pretty resilient, even, in your own way, stoic – already. By embracing that strength, and letting both ancient wisdom and modern science support your healing, you can transform your wounds into wisdom and find the unshakeable calm you’ve been seeking.
References:
- Holiday, R. (n.d.). The Obstacle Is the Way (various insights on Stoicism, resilience, and focusing on what’s in our control).
- Psychology Today (2025). The Neurobiology of Trauma – explains how trauma triggers “survival mode,” shutting down the thinking brain and impairing reasoning during threat.
- Psychology Today (2025). The Neurobiology of Trauma – discusses how freezing and dissociation are adaptive survival strategies, not personal failures.
- Psychology Today (2025). The Neurobiology of Trauma – describes how PTSD keeps the amygdala on high alert and makes it hard for the prefrontal cortex to regain control, leading to strong emotional reactions and a feeling of unsafety.
- Kelly O’Horo (2026). The Gift of Gratitude (blog/podcast episode) – on using gratitude as a grounding tool; noticing what’s steady or meaningful in the present can build resilience, emotional regulation, and connection, even during stress.
- Psychology Today (2025). The Neurobiology of Trauma – describes how trauma therapy techniques like “naming emotions” and talking about the trauma keep the logical brain engaged (“online”) and help reconnect it with the emotional brain (amygdala) – the “name it to tame it” concept.
- Journal of Behavior Therapy (2014). Study on cognitive reappraisal – found that reframing thoughts increases activity in the prefrontal cortex and reduces amygdala reactivity, helping regulate emotions.
- Stoic writings (traditional and modern) – Stoic principles of virtue, acceptance, and focusing on what’s in one’s control as practical tools for living with integrity.
- Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now (1997) – introduced the practice of “watching the thinker,” i.e., observing one’s thoughts as a non-judgmental witness, to break identification with negative thought patterns.
- Jon Kabat-Zinn, Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (1979-present) – integrated mindfulness meditation (an Eastern practice) into Western medicine, showing that non-judgmental present-moment awareness can be a “missing piece” in healing stress and trauma.
- Kelly O’Horo’s Adaptable: Behavior Explained Podcast – episodes discussing grounding, mindfulness, and trauma-informed therapy; emphasizes concepts like presentification (anchoring in the present moment) to help trauma survivors feel safe and fully “here” in the now, which aids in emotional regulation.