This guided meditation walks you through the Stoic practice of the Dichotomy of Control. By clearly separating what is within your power from what is not, you can release anxiety about external events and find a stable center within yourself, focusing your energy only where it matters.
Find a quiet space. Allow your body to settle. Your shoulders to soften. Take a breath that fills you from the ground up, and as you release it, release the noise of the day. We are here to visit a place of profound peace. An inner citadel, fortified not by stone walls, but by a single, clarifying insight. An idea so simple, yet so radical it has been a source of strength for nearly two thousand years. It comes to us from a man named Epictetus, born a slave in the Roman Empire, who rose to become one of the great Stoic philosophers. Having endured the deepest powerlessness a person can experience, he devoted his life to understanding true freedom. And he located it in this one, essential practice: learning to separate what is within our power from what is not. He taught that so much of our suffering, our anxiety, our frustration, is born from a simple confusion—a misclassification. We exhaust ourselves trying to command the winds and the tides of the world, while neglecting the one thing that is truly ours to govern: our own mind. Today, we will walk this ancient path. We will learn to see the line between our work and the world’s work. And in that clarity, we will find our strength.
Bring to mind something that is weighing on you. Perhaps it is a worry about the future. A difficult relationship. A professional setback or a challenge with your health. Don’t shy away from it. Let it appear in your mind’s eye, just as it is. Feel the texture of this burden. The heat of anxiety, the chill of fear, the dull ache of frustration. Notice where it lives in your body. This is real. This is what you are carrying. Now, we will begin a great sorting. With gentle honesty, we will place the different elements of this situation into one of two circles. The first circle is the Circle of Concern. This is the vast domain of things you do not command. It includes other people’s opinions, their choices, their moods. It includes the past, in its entirety. It includes the economy, the weather, and the ultimate outcome of your efforts. The approval of your boss, the affection of a partner, the arrival of the train on time—these all live here. Look at your burden and see how much of it is made of these things. Things that are not, and never were, your own affairs. The second, smaller circle is the Circle of Control. This is your kingdom. Within its bounds are your thoughts, your judgments, your intentions, and your actions. Here reside your effort, your integrity, your kindness. How you prepare for the meeting, not whether you get the promotion. The honesty of your words, not how they are received. The effort you put into the proposal, not whether it is accepted. This is your work. This is the only ground where your power is absolute. Take a moment now, in silence. Take the elements of your worry and place them, one by one, into their proper circles. What, in this situation, truly belongs to you? And what does not? Be unflinchingly honest. See how much of the weight you carry is borrowed from the outer circle—the circle of things beyond your command.
Feel the shift as this sorting becomes clear. As you release your grip on what you cannot control, notice what happens. A lightening. A sense of space opening up. The energy that was once wasted on wrestling with the inevitable can now flow back into its proper domain. This is not a practice of apathy. It is not about giving up. It is the opposite. It is about focusing your power where it can make a true difference. It is an invitation to engage with your life more wisely, more skillfully, and with greater courage. You cannot control the storm, but you can tend to the ship. You cannot command another person’s heart, but you can speak your truth with love. You cannot determine the outcome, but you can bring your very best to the attempt. This is the heart of Stoic freedom. It is the understanding that your peace of mind does not depend on getting what you want. It depends on wanting what is already yours to command. Your inner world—your reasoned choice, your assent, your judgment—can remain undisturbed no matter what chaos rages outside. Epictetus put it simply: "people are disturbed not by events, but by their judgments about events." So let your final breath here be an act of release and an act of commitment. Release the impossible task of controlling the world. Let go of the need for applause, the fear of failure, the weight of others’ expectations. Lay it all down at the edge of the circle. It is not your work to carry. And in its place, pick up the profound and noble work that *is* yours. The work of being a good person. The work of acting with courage, with wisdom, with justice, and with moderation. The work of mastering yourself. Carry this distinction with you. When anxiety arises, ask the question: *Is this mine?* Is this within my circle of control? If it is not, let it be. If it is, then act. That is the practice. That is the path to tranquility.