My wife, Grace, is Catholic, and her religion means a lot to her, just as it does for most Filipinos I’ve met. But what surprised me was how deeply she was drawn to Stoicism. It wasn’t something she often mentioned initially, but when we began working together on this blog, I realized that many of her reactions and thoughts were shaped by Stoic principles, presented in a way that didn’t conflict with her faith but deepened it.
An essential part of this ancient philosophy is the teaching to keep a cool head and a warm heart. Keeping a cool head in confrontations is especially challenging, particularly if you’re from the Philippines, where emotions tend to run high. This is where Stoicism offers something valuable. It doesn’t encourage emotional detachment. Instead, it teaches you to understand your feelings, accept them, and act with dignity. I believe this is something people all over the world strive for, and I see it as one of the reasons Grace finds Stoicism so helpful. Its teachings are often more explicit than Christianity’s and easier to grasp. Where the Bible shows the path to salvation, Stoicism offers tools to get through the day without losing yourself.
At one point, Grace shared something that gave me a deeper insight into her connection to this philosophy. She said, “I’m known for having a short temper and condescendingly speaking my mind. I’ve probably hurt many people, which I’m not proud of. Stoicism gives me faith that things can change for the better, and this is a great support for me.”
That quiet admission captures something essential. It isn’t about philosophical interest but real life, effort, and the courage to grow.
In a country like the Philippines, where mental health is still a neglected topic, Stoic principles hold great value. Treatment options are scarce, stigma is strong, and women are expected to carry significant emotional burdens with a smile. There’s little room to say, “I can’t take this anymore.” Instead of breaking under pressure, people learn to focus on what they can control: their thoughts, reactions, and actions. As the Stoics say, “Some things are up to us, and some are not.” It sounds simple, but it’s a mindset that brings deep strength to those who adopt it.
Many Stoic teachings align seamlessly with Christian messages. For example, this advice from Epictetus: “Don’t say you lost it; say you gave it back.” A similar idea is found in the words of Job: “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Both express that loss should be met with the understanding that life owes us nothing. We are stewards, not owners.
Or consider Marcus Aurelius: “Do good, and be done with it.” This echoes Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount that we should not perform good deeds to be seen. Quiet, unconditional love, without the need for reward or recognition, is a Stoic virtue and a Christian expression of love in action.
Buddhism also contains many of the same guiding principles, something Grace and I wrote about when we shared our early reflections in our first Mindanao Advice article. As we pointed out there, Buddhist teachings are often phrased more passively—”You shall not…”—while Christianity (and Stoicism as well) more often says, “You shall…” It’s an interesting difference. Perhaps it reflects temperament, culture, or language. But it also makes me wonder: could Stoicism, widespread in the Roman Empire before the rise of Christianity, have influenced some of Christianity’s moral teachings? Is that why many Christians today, like Grace, feel that Stoic wisdom speaks so naturally to the heart, as if it’s already familiar?
The Stoics propose a practice called “premeditation,” which involves thinking ahead about what might go wrong during the day. This isn’t to become pessimistic, but to be prepared. If the bus is late, someone says something hurtful, or a task becomes unexpectedly difficult, you’ve already faced it in your mind. The Stoics believe this makes it easier to meet the day with calm and patience. And isn’t that precisely what the Bible teaches when Paul writes, “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope”?
There is no contradiction here—just two different languages expressing the same insight: life is fragile and we cannot control everything, but we can always control how we respond to it.
I see how Grace meets daily challenges and how prayer and reflection give her the strength to pause between impulse and reaction. It’s not always easy, but it’s often essential. When she feels hurt or provoked, she can step back and draw on ancient wisdom to guide her toward a better outcome. When one encounters injustice, one does not seek revenge but understanding. One is not passive but acts without letting bitterness take the lead.
This can be life-saving in a society where many people struggle to meet basic needs. Philosophy and faith are no longer luxuries for the educated but lifelines for those caught in the storm. Perhaps in such societies, these ancient traditions return to their original purpose—not as abstract ideas but as practical tools for living.
My connection to the Philippines has taught me more about the idea that being strong doesn’t necessarily mean winning. It means holding on to what is good, even when the world is falling apart. That’s what the Stoics encourage, and that’s what Christianity also holds as its ideal.
For Grace, it’s not about choosing one path over another but about using the best of both, wherever possible. Just as Stoicism teaches us to live with dignity, Christianity teaches us to live with love.
Featured image © Eldar Einarson
