Philosophies That Shaped Millions

Know how it goes: one day we're born, one day we die. Everything that happens in between we know and understand, but everything that happened before and will happen after we know nothing about. As a result, it's really difficult to say what exactly the meaning or importance for us being here is. If we can't tell how we came or where we came from, how can we know why we're here? In the same vein, if we don't know where we're going or what we're going to come, how can we tell if any of our present actions have any significance at all?

It is this uncertainty of both our collective past and futures that has allowed the question "What is the meaning of life?" to plague humanity ever since we became sentient. We've never been able to objectively answer this question as a species. However, a lot of us have found comfort in many different ideologies to at least subdue the anxiety that it causes. In many different religions, a deity made the entire universe, put us all in it, and whatever we do on this Earth will be used to determine when and how we spend eternity afterwards. For some others, the meaning of life is the love we share with friends, family, and our loved ones. Some others believe the existence of life in itself is what makes it worth living.

But for nihilists, life is meaningless. All action, suffering, emotions, both good and bad are entirely senseless and meaningless. This is nihilism, the belief in nothing. At some point in our lives, many of us have been faced with nihilistic thoughts or hit by a strong sense of purposelessness—like our lives have no meaning and we have no intrinsic value. Usually, this happens when we begin to question our old beliefs, but also just before we get new ones to hold on to. It's in that phase where you're growing out of your parents' beliefs, learning new things, getting new experiences, and forming your own views about the world.

And usually, all of these thoughts begin with one simple question: why? A three-letter monosyllabic word that's capable of making anything and everything that feels like the rock of your foundation start to become slippery, like quicksand, dragging you into the misery that maybe, just maybe, your whole life hasn't been what you thought it was. Just pause and take a moment to think about your core values and just ask the question: why? Why do you believe those things? Where did they come from? Who did they come from? Keep asking, and eventually, you'll arrive at a point where there's no longer an answer. You'll arrive at nothing.

All the religions of the world, all of our scientific discovery, but yet the question why is one that we still cannot answer. And so, for the nihilist, it is at this point that they come to the conclusion that there is no why, there is no answer, there's simply nothing. As Alan Watts once wrote, "Life is nothing more than a trip from the Maternity Ward to the crematorium." It's really in the name. The term nihilism comes from the Latin word "nihil," which translates to "nothing," and "ISM," which translates to "ideology." It's the ideology of nothing.

But that doesn't really help us in understanding it completely. Usually, people confuse nihilism for pessimism, but they are very different from each other. Pessimists believe in the worst outcome, they have a downtrending view of the world, and tend to focus on the negatives in life because they believe that, in the end, evil will always overcome good. This is what makes them different. Pessimists believe that there's good in the world, but they just don't think humans are capable of doing it, at least in its entirety. Nihilists, on the other hand, do not believe in anything. They don't believe that there's evil in the world, neither do they believe that there's good in the world.

In the mind of the nihilist, the world simply exists, and humans created morality, thereby creating good and evil. Let's take the glass cup metaphor for instance. Optimists say you should see the glass as half full, while pessimists say we should see the glass as half empty. Nihilists say throw the entire cup away because what does it matter if it's full or empty? Full, empty, good, bad, it's all irrelevant. We're all going to die anyway.

Nihilism is also often compared to several other philosophies like cynicism and apathy, but again, they are all very different from one another, and correctly categorizing your thoughts in these baskets may be harder than you think. Cynics believe that people are always motivated by self-interest. They don't believe that anyone can have intrinsically good motives. They have no faith in the human species and believe that we're all entirely selfish, only fighting for our own benefit. However, the idea that humans are not good means that, in the mind of the cynic, good exists out there somewhere, just not in humans.

In the mind of the nihilist, nothing exists out there. There's no good or evil. They don't see people as evil, neither do they see them as good because they don't believe either of those things exist. They're simply traits we've applied to things. Apathetic people just don't care. They believe that there's meaning to life but they simply don't care about it. Nihilism, on the other hand, is the idea that there's no grand design or purpose, nothing to believe in, and therefore no meaning.

This brings to mind the paradox of nihilism. If you believe in nothing, then that nothing becomes something that you believe in. But since you now believe in something, then there is no nihilism because nihilism is the belief that there is nothing. Nihilism is quite different from other philosophical ideas because it was first a literary invention before it ever became philosophical. As a result, it's not clearly defined as many of the other philosophies that exist. Many different people explained it in many different ways, but eventually, these different definitions got categorized, forming many different kinds of nihilism.

There's political nihilism. Political nihilists believe that for humanity to move forward as a species, all political, social, and religious order must be destroyed. Then there's ethical nihilism; it rejects the idea of absolute ethical or moral values. With this type of nihilism, good or bad is only defined by society, and as such, it shouldn't be followed. If we, as a species, will ever attain absolute individual freedom, we can kind of just do whatever we want. And then we have existential nihilism. It's the understanding that life has no value or meaning; it's the most popular kind of nihilism and the one we've been talking about for most of this video.

For nihilists, the existence of things like the state, religious bodies, and even communal morality is a breach of our freedom as individuals. If we can't do absolutely anything we want to do, then are we truly free, or have we simply bound ourselves by some kind of invisible mental chain for reasons we can't explain?

One night, I was scrolling through Reddit and I came across the question, "If you had the chance to save your pet or a stranger, who would you save?" An overwhelming number of people said their pet, pretty obviously. When one commenter was confronted, they simply asked the question: "Why do you think a human life is worth more than that of an animal?" And no one really had an answer. Of course, people tried to beat around the bush, but the question why was never answered. And that right there is the point of the nihilist: if we can't answer why we bind ourselves by these rules, then why do we choose to do it?

Well, it might be because of the existential horror and the emotional anguish that comes with agreeing to the fact that life is meaningless. Think about it for a minute: if life is truly meaningless and everything we're doing has no value, then all the feats of science, the wonders of technology, things like space exploration and human rights movements—look at how far we've come—and then think about the fact that it all might just be a waste, a blip in time with no consequence whatsoever in the grand scheme of things. Knowing that all the things we experience, the ups and downs we go through, that in the end, it's all for nothing?

We aren't obligated to understand the chaos of reality, just to laugh at it. Friedrich Nietzsche was a strange philosopher because he argued both for and against nihilism at the same time. Arguing for it, he explained that there is no objective structure or order in our world, except for the one that we create for ourselves. He once said, "Every belief, every considering something true, is necessarily false because there is simply no true world." He believed nihilism would expose all of humanity's beliefs and truths as nothing but a symptom of defective Western mythology. As he famously said, "God is dead."

Now, he wasn't talking about the actual deity of the religions; he was talking metaphorically about the power that religious orders held at the time and how people were starting to chart their own paths, finding their own meaning in life, denying what the status quo was at the time. But then, in the same breath, Friedrich argued against nihilism, saying that in the coming centuries, the advent of nihilism would drive civilization towards a catastrophe; a disaster waiting to implode, a river that has reached its end. And if you look at the most destructive civilizations in human history, we can clearly see that this is true: long-standing cultural traditions, beliefs, religious institutions, and even financial systems are broken down, and nothingness starts to creep in.

Think about it: if nothing matters and we're all just a random combination of transient atoms, how can we call Hitler objectively one of the worst humans to ever live for trying to wipe out an entire culture? At a fundamental level, most of us understand that all of these things are indeed terrible, but the danger is that because we cannot explain why we feel that way logically, we can never convince another person to follow the same path. And that is exactly what Friedrich feared. Some people still blame him for the Nazi era because although he saw all of these dangers, he still continued preaching nihilism. He believed that if we could work through the breakdown of civilization that nihilism would eventually cause, we can then create a new course of action for mankind.

He believed that to move forward as a species, we must create a new morality, one that does away with the prejudice of what existed before. Because at the end of the day, tearing down your old house shouldn't make you homeless; rather, it should present you with an opportunity to build a bigger and better home.

Pause and look around you for a moment, observe everything that's going on, particularly on social media, and you can see that we, as a species, might just be heading for another nihilism outbreak. Religion no longer holds any saying what is morally acceptable. People are destroying long-standing beliefs and cultural practices and are instead charting new courses for themselves. Anything, no matter how despicable you think it is, now has a loyal fanbase defending why they have a right to do whatever it is they want to do. And in reality, why not? That's the question no one can answer.

Humanity will keep shifting the needle forward, ever so slightly, until one day none of us will be able to tell the other that they're wrong. Because why are they wrong? William Shakespeare once wrote, "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing." If life is truly meaningless, and we have no purpose for being here, our response should be to make the best out of a bad situation. Instead of seeing the glass half full or half empty, we can simply throw it out and drink directly from the faucet until we're satisfied. Because at the end of the day, life alone is reason enough for living.

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The first 500 people to use my link in the description will receive a one-month free trial of Skillshare. Get started today! In 2012, Drake made a song titled "The Motto," but what most people remember from it is "YOLO." YOLO tells you to live in the moment, enjoy the life you have today, and not worry too much about tomorrow, because at the end of the day, you only live once.

While Drake certainly popularized the motto, he wasn't the first to use the phrase, and he certainly wasn't the first to come up with the idea of enjoying the pleasures of today without worrying about tomorrow. This idea has been around since the 4th century BC, as what philosophers call Hedonism—a school of thought that was created by Aristippus of Cyrene, a student of Socrates. Hedonism is the idea that the end goal of all of our actions in life is to, one, pursue pleasure, and two, avoid pain.

Aristippus believed that the only good cause worth pursuing was one that would ultimately bring you pleasure. In today's society, we're taught that the way to succeed is to suffer today so you can enjoy tomorrow, to save for the rainy day. Once we get out of college, we're encouraged to find a job and work hard at a 9 to 5 for many years, live modestly, and save as much as possible so we can enjoy our retirement 50 years later. Aristippus didn't believe in any of that. He didn't believe in the idea of delayed gratification, and he always advocated for people to simply get pleasure from what is present and available.

He was completely against the idea of suffering in the present in order to get something that only might be pleasurable in the future. So instead of telling students in college to study hard for their exams so they can land a good job after school, for example, Aristippus would encourage them to fraternize, drink, and party lavishly, because these are the pleasures that are readily available to them. On the one hand, you can see them as stupid and lacking foresight. After all, if you squander everything you have on the pleasures of today, you'll quickly run out of resources, and all of that pleasure will turn into pain—from people losing everything they had because of an addiction to people living in poverty as a result of their own laziness.

We've seen the results of solely focusing on the present pleasures. But on the other hand, there's some wisdom to the school of thought because truly tomorrow isn't promised to any one of us. What's the point in working hard at a 9 to 5 for 50 years, ignoring all of the pleasures of the time, only to die a few years before retirement? And let's say you do make it to retirement. The sad reality is that one in four people will have a disability by the age of 60, and the older you get, the chances of that happening increase drastically. Knowing all of this, is it still foolish to think that we are all better off just enjoying the pleasures that we do have in the present?

Socrates and other philosophers at the time certainly believed so. A lot of philosophers hated the idea of Hedonism, because saying that the end goal of the entire human existence is simply to pursue pleasure and avoid pain just sounded vain. This opposition, combined with the rise of Christianity in ancient Greece at the time, meant that this extremely rash idea of Hedonism died with Aristippus many years later. Epicurus, who was considered the father of modern-day Hedonism, redefined what Hedonism was, and to do that, he had to start by redefining a certain word: pleasure.

For Aristippus, pleasure was a state of ecstasy and excitement, that amazing feeling you have after biting into your favorite food or after that first sip of coffee in the morning, and for most of us, this is how we define pleasure. But not Epicurus. For Epicurus, pleasure was a state of tranquility. Instead of encouraging people to indulge themselves in constant gratification, Epicurus believed that the true meaning of pleasure was to kill the fear of both death and God, because only then would you truly be able to fully enjoy what this life has to offer.

While Aristippus simply encouraged people to pursue pleasure, Epicurus believed that all human beings do everything to gain pleasure and absorb pain. He didn't encourage it, because according to him, that was our natural state anyway. To defend this point, Epicurus asked everyone to look at how babies view the world around them. They don't really understand how the world works yet, but they do understand two things: when something feels good, and when something feels bad.

When something feels good, the baby is joyful and happy; when something feels bad, the baby cries because it wants that pain to stop and it wants to return to said pleasurable state. I'm sure at this point you're wondering if we're all solely pursuing pleasure, then what about selfless acts, acts that are done solely because they are virtuous or valuable for other people and not ourselves? How do we describe those? Well, in hedonistic ideas, it's simply because those things make people feel heroic, which ends up being processed in your brain as a pleasurable feeling.

So at the core, it is still pleasure they're chasing, just not the kind we might be thinking about. According to hedonistic teachings, there are two types of pleasure: there's moving pleasure and there's static pleasure. Moving pleasure is when you're in the process of satisfying a desire. When you're hungry, you eat; when you're thirsty, you have a drink; when you need a timeout, you take a nap. Static pleasure is the tranquility you feel once you're done satisfying those needs. At this point, the adrenaline has finished coursing through your veins, and you're left with a sweet feeling of satisfaction. In that moment, you feel a sense of tranquility, and you keep feeling it until it is sadly replaced by pain because, according to Epicurus, there is no in-between: the absence of pain is pleasure and vice versa.

But even with this more modest way of explaining Hedonism, a lot of people still disagree and even frown at the idea, and this is because of one thing: the idea that pleasure is the only source of intrinsic value. Think about it for a second: if pleasure is the only intrinsic value, then what do we make of things like finding meaning in life, achieving great things, building and maintaining long-lasting relationships, becoming a legend in a particular field, or even something as simple as living religiously or upholding a set of moral beliefs that we hold dear to our hearts? Theists might try to argue that all of those things do not hold any value of themselves and that they're only valuable because we get pleasure from them.

But something like upholding religious beliefs isn't always pleasurable; in fact, most times it restricts the kind of pleasure you can get, but still, it gives people a sense of fulfillment that for them is better than the pleasure they're forsaking. If self-pleasure alone is the aim of human existence, the people who benefit from the wrong that happens in our society will never fight against it. People would never fight for the common good when it might affect them negatively. But yet, every day we see people put their own desires on the side to help other people.

People get excommunicated from their families, rejected by those they love because they chose to speak up and fight for what's right, even if the issues don't affect them directly. If we're all chasing our own pleasures, that would never happen. We'll all be too busy enjoying our broken society because it benefits us and not worrying about trying to change it for someone else. Another huge stumbling block that hedonists face when trying to argue their beliefs is the worth of reality. If pleasure is the ultimate goal, then it shouldn't matter whether that pleasure is real or imagined, right? If we say that people always intrinsically pursue things that are pleasurable, then if there is an option for unlimited pleasure, they should never choose anything else, right?

To answer these questions, Robert Nozick created a thought experiment, giving people two options. He asked them to choose between being plugged into a pleasure-giving machine for the rest of their lives or living their current reality with the pain that exists in our world. People always picked this reality because, in the end, living a life that's not real is pointless and meaningless. And even with the option of the most pleasurable thing in the world, people would rather have pain that's real—whatever "real" means.

As I've said previously, the best memories are the ones you remember with both pleasure and pain. 20 years after he left his childhood home, Abraham Lincoln came back only to see the entire place in ruin. As he looked at it with tears in his eyes, he said, "My childhood home I see again and am saddened with the view, and still, as memories cloud my brain, there's pleasure in it too." This beautiful mix of pleasure and pain is something that the hedonistic view of the world simply does not account for.

When you're graduating high school, you're excited for the adventures that await you in college. You'll probably be leaving home for the first time, and you'll finally be alone, able to enjoy what the world has to offer. That feeling is pleasurable, but the feeling is also painful. You'll miss your high school friends and the simplicity of childhood. You'll miss your parents, your siblings, and the community that you grew up in. And though these painful thoughts cloud your brain, there will be pleasure in it too.

Hedonism is frowned upon in modern-day society because it opens the door for a trap that you can easily fall into. Pleasure is an insatiable desire. If you get hungry and fill your belly, it only takes a few hours, and you're looking for something else to eat. It's an unending pursuit. So if that becomes the entire reason for your existence, it can quickly become difficult to control. This is how most people become addicted. It starts out as just a fleeting pleasure, and before you know it, the reason you're doing those things stops being the pursuit of pleasure and starts being an unquenchable and uncontrollable thirst for those things—a trap that's very difficult to come out of, one that many people get stuck in for the rest of their lives.

But this isn't to say that we can't learn some things from hedonistic principles, because as much as we might not like to think about it, it's true that tomorrow is not promised, so we might as well make the best of today. Things like making a conscious decision to enjoy the little everyday pleasures can help us lead a happier life. If your car breaks down and you have to walk to school, don't be in haste; embrace the journey, walk with a friend, make jokes with them, and always leave each other on a good note. Craving a cup of coffee? Head out to your favorite coffee shop and order your favorite drink—you've earned it. You don't have to wait until you're retired before you can start reaping the fruit of your labor. Take those vacation days; the promotion can wait a few more months. Stay on that call with your friends for an extra hour—missing an hour of study probably won't make you fail, because even if seeking pleasure might not be the ultimate goal of human existence, it's certainly a worthwhile pursuit.

In the city of Cypress in 300 B.C., there lived a very wealthy trader called Zeno. While on a voyage from Phoenicia to Perus, his boat sank along with all of his cargo. Because of that single event, an event that was entirely out of Zeno's or anyone's control, this very wealthy man suddenly became poor in an instant. Imagine you were Zeno: how would you react to your entire life's work getting flushed down the drain by the sheer force of nature? What is the proper reaction? Would you be angry, sad? Would you feel life has cheated you?

For most of us, these would all be normal reactions, but not for Zeno—the father of Stoicism. One small change lasts in eternity, and one small reframing of your mindset can cascade into larger and more impactful changes later down the line. The core of stoicism is the very definition of acceptance and indifference. After reading the works of Socrates and other great philosophers, Zeno created and taught Stoicism. According to Zeno, although we don't have much control over what happens to us, we do have control of how it affects us, and we must use this control to great effect. Rather than crying over spilled milk, or in this case drowned goods, Zeno focused on maintaining his composure over the situation, remaining calm and neutral despite his predicament.

Today, people inadvertently view stoics as people who cannot be broken—people who don't often linger to the emotional extremes going through things like fits of rage or bouts of anxiety—but the original idea behind Stoicism was much more than that. Rather than just a way to describe people who are unemotional, Stoicism was a way to describe and understand the world. It was a way of life, and that way of life has lasted for centuries. Stoic philosophy can be applied to situations today the same way it was applied thousands of years ago, and its benefits are just as impactful.

Stoicism allows us to process these negative emotions from negative experiences and turn them into the thoughts that give us a unique perspective of the world. Perspective is everything, and everyone in the world has different experiences and thus different perspectives on things. Since the Stoics gathered, discussed, and taught philosophy in a public place, their general philosophy was widely known. They believed that the Stoic principles could greatly benefit anyone and everyone, and so it didn't make sense for them to hide that knowledge behind the four walls of a school or of the palace courtyards. As a result, everyone from slave to emperor could learn and become a Stoic, and they did.

Some of the world's most notable Stoics include Epictetus, which translates to "acquired," as he was once owned as a slave; Seneca, who was a well-renowned statesman; and Marcus Aurelius, a Roman Emperor and one of the most powerful men to have ever lived. The early Stoics practiced what they preached, avoiding all forms of segregation and leading the fight against inequality. They even invented the word Cosmopolitan, which literally means "citizen of the world."

When people hear that word now, we think of cities like New York, Toronto, Dubai, and London because of how diverse they are. This was the type of unity and togetherness that the Stoics preached, even at a time when it wasn't popular. Women were allowed to freely learn about Stoicism and become Stoics themselves. So why do so many people adopt Stoicism as a way of life?

In a world full of unexpected turns of events, our emotions can tend to get in the way of things. In reality, we don't really get sad because bad things happen to us; we get sad because unexpected bad things happen to us. Rain is a good thing; it helps to water our plants, provides water for livestock, and keeps the temperature cool and humid. But the truth is, when that dark cloud catches you outside without an umbrella, it's never a good experience.

So why don't we start crying once it starts to rain? It's because, although the situation is bad, we've learned to expect rain. It's something that is unavoidable. We can't control the weather. Although it sucks, the rain passes, and the light returns. Stoicism teaches us that in the same way, we should expect that everything bad that can happen will happen. Picture the worst outcome and be content knowing it could happen.

One of the Stoic exercises is known as voluntary discomfort, an exercise aimed at increasing feelings of gratitude. Sleep on the floor of your kitchen, take cold showers when you normally take hot ones, eat nothing but potatoes for a few days—things like this. This exercise helps you to understand that no matter how hard it gets, you'll still survive and potentially thrive if your mindset is right.

By being able to withstand these uncomfortable situations, we indirectly prepare our minds for future misfortunes. With the current state of the world, where advertisements are constantly being shoved down our throats, we're made to believe that if we don't have the next best thing, look a certain way, or make a certain amount of money, then we will never be happy. This message is more important now than ever.

We enter the world not knowing much of anything. We grow up being taught things at home, in school, and by observing the world for ourselves. The thing is, a lot of times, all three of these sources of knowledge teach us in different ways. The question is: do we need to internalize all of this knowledge? If we do, we could unknowingly be setting unrealistic expectations for our lives, leaving us ultimately disappointed and unsatisfied. In the end, that's no way to live.

We should instead focus on improving ourselves for ourselves. We should do things for ourselves and only for that reason. Attaching any external hope or secondary attachments to the actions we take almost always leads to disappointment. Most of the time, we end up trying to fulfill that emptiness with external things—blowing all your money on a fancy car, the house, or even starting a family. Sometimes we do all of these things for their external value and not their internal value.

But Stoicism teaches that if you approach life this way, you place your happiness in the hands of external forces, forces that can always fail. Cars almost always break down, natural disasters wipe away entire cities, and divorce rates climb higher and higher each year. But even the free things in life come at a cost—the cost of space, both physical and mental. As Seneca once wrote, "Learning to live with less will create space in your life for the things that truly matter to you."

Instead, we must place our happiness on our intrinsic value as humans and on nothing we have or can physically acquire. We must choose to do our best to keep a cool head, regardless of what life throws at us, because regardless of what it is, we want, at the end of the day, we don't have any control over the majority of things that happen to us. But we do have all the control over how we react to those things. That is the dichotomy of control, the most important principle in Stoic philosophy.

Stoics teach that we must learn to separate what we control from what we cannot control. We need to determine our value not from things we can't control, but from the things we can. Striving towards goals is a good trait, but breaking down when those things don't go your way is, in a Stoic's point of view, useless. Making YouTube videos is, well, a lot easier than being a Roman Emperor, but it can still prove to be challenging sometimes.

First, you must form your idea, which takes forever; then research that idea, scrap it because it sucks, start over, script the video, create the video, edit it, make the title, thumbnail, and everything else before you hit upload. Everything up until the point where you click upload is all up to you. However, once you click that upload button, the power shifts to the YouTube algorithm. Still, a lot of people judge the success of their YouTube channel or Instagram account based on how many views and subscribers or followers they have—metrics of which, for the most part, are beyond your control.

So Stoics teach that instead you should judge the success of your work based on the amount of effort you put in and not on the outcome of your external hopes. Trust the process. Think about a person who has been working hard at their job for the past six months. He now feels he deserves a promotion, and so he walks up to his boss with his performance report. The boss says, "Thanks," doesn't grant him the promotion, and he goes home thinking he must suck at his job. He doesn't consider that the boss might have simply woken up angry, someone else might have been better qualified at the time, or maybe the company was just losing money and couldn't afford it. He doesn't know the reason, but he's still upset.

If he simply placed his value on the quality of the performance report he turned in and kept doing what he was doing to earn the promotion he wanted, he could have been much happier overall. With the right perspective, his goal wouldn't have been diminished but just postponed. It's this reframing of your mindset that is crucial. A true Stoic does not view their success based on the financial gain of their ventures, but is comforted by the fact that they can live a comfortable life without all the things money can buy.

These are the four main virtues of Stoicism: wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice. Wisdom is being able to separate between what is internal and what is external and the ability to choose our reaction to the things that happen to us. As Victor Frankl said, "Between stimulus and response, there is a space, and that space is our power to choose our response." Courage: two words, persist and resist.

Temperance, or moderation, is what I just said—doing more with less, saying more with fewer words. While Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk are fighting at the top of the Forbes list, Stoics believe that the limit of wealth should simply be having what is essential and then having what is enough. Justice is the most important of all the virtues; it instructs that no one should do harm to another because we were all born for each other to do good to one another and not to ourselves.

Nelson Mandela was one of the most famous African leaders in the world. While he was fighting against apartheid, he got sentenced to life imprisonment, where he stayed for 27 years before finally being released. When he was released from prison, he was elected president of South Africa, and thus many people thought he was going to brutally punish all the people that had anything to do with apartheid or his imprisonment. But, of course, he did not. Throughout his time in prison, Mandela read the works of Marcus Aurelius and learned many of the core values of Stoicism, all of which he practiced throughout his life.

Instead of calling for the heads of the wrongdoers, Nelson Mandela urged his people to instead seek the opposite: to relax and rebuild. He stressed that the past was now beyond their control and that the only thing they could do was find a way to move forward and build a better nation. This is the way of the Stoic.

In modern-day medicine, Stoicism is at the core of procedures like Rational Emotive Behavioral Therapy and Logotherapy. REBT helps patients to identify negative thought patterns that might be causing emotional and behavioral issues. It allows you to challenge the reasoning behind all of these negative thoughts with logic, and when you realize that many of them are unfounded, you can then replace them with more productive and healthier beliefs. Logotherapy, on the other hand, is based on the Stoic principle that humans are driven by purpose. Even in the darkest of situations, we can fill our lives with meaning and happiness by simply finding out what that purpose is.

As many of us know, though, this is easier said than done. It's a process—much like everything else. We have to rewire the way we think. Out with the old, in with the new. To fix our problems with happiness, we must practice self-worth by redirecting our definition of value to the things that we can control. We can stop getting fixated on the things we cannot control, and overall, we can lead a much happier and more fulfilling life.

Stoicism helps us steer through past and present storms into calmer and more peaceful waters. And if our ship sinks and we all drown, we can take peace in the fact that we lived a good life, albeit not as long as we had hoped. Because remember, everything has meaning. Your alarm rings, waking you up from an unrestful sleep. You stretch across the bed and tap your phone to silence the disturbing noise. You're tempted to pick it up and see what's going on in the world, but you try really hard to stay away from it, reminded of all the videos you've watched and podcasts you've listened to that preach the importance of a healthy morning routine.

Instead, you lay in bed hoping for a few more minutes of bliss. You try to relax to remember the strange dream you had in the fun evening the night before, but instead of your eyes resting half closed, your brain turns on. You may not be feeding your anxiety with social media or emails, but a different type of worry sets in—a worry far greater than the project update request from your boss or a vacation post from your friend that makes you jealous. It's a feeling of unrest, a feeling that things aren't quite right.

You ask yourself, when will this feeling end? When will I finally have peace in my life? Most of us, on some level, are chasing this feeling of peace. We seek out expensive therapists, read self-help books, listen to happiness and wellness gurus. We're searching for answers that would hopefully make us better, more connected, more tranquil human beings. But what if it's simpler than all that? What if the endless availability of tools for self-improvement has taken us away from the greatest teacher of all: nature?

By nature, I don't mean just trees, animals, and oceans. I'm talking about flow, harmony, and peace. These are the principles of the ancient Chinese philosophy of Daoism, also known as TSM. Daoism views the ideal human existence as one that relates strictly to nature and the universe. It stresses that to truly live well, we must be in harmony with nature, not fight it. Daoists strive to find the simplest form of all things—the natural clay that gathers on a cliff side, rather than the sculpture it can be molded into, or the bark of a tree rather than the block of wood that it becomes.

The origins of Daoism date back to the 6th century B.C.E. and begin with a figure named Laozi, a Chinese philosopher who some believe was one of Confucius's early teachers—a name you're perhaps more familiar with. Confucius founded the other reigning philosophical belief in China, Confucianism. Laozi had a different approach than the morality and human connection-based ideas of Confucianism. The story goes that Laozi decided to leave China because the dynasty was in decline. On his way out of the country, he was stopped by a guard who begged him to leave behind his teachings. And so, Laozi, the first Daoist text was born.

The caveat to all of this is that there's no concrete proof that Laozi even ever existed, but as with all ancient legends, the factuality of the story is less important than the lessons it teaches us because whether or not Laozi existed as a person, the lessons that Daoism teaches still lead many into a peaceful and meaningful life. According to Laozi, the Dao, or way of nature, refers to the energies and vibrations of natural matter and how we connect to and are affected by those energies and vibrations is the practice of Daoism.

So how do we find Dao, and more importantly, is finding Dao the key to a peaceful life? Let's look at one of the main and perhaps most popularized symbols of Daoism: the yin-yang. You've seen it on tapestries, in mediocre tattoos, doodles in middle school textbooks—black and white teardrop shapes hugging each other, forming a simple eternal circle. The white teardrop represents the Yang. Yang energy is associated with masculinity, activity, light, and penetration. It is the jutting of mountains, piercing up high into the clouds and exerting their dominance over the valleys below. It is the breath of a dragon, burning through everything in its path.

The black teardrop represents the Yin. In opposition to the Yang, Yin is feminine, passive, and dark. It absorbs the light that the Yang gives off. It is the rivers and streams that run at the base of the mountain range, accepting the water that melts down the slopes—the slow, slinking movements of a tiger, much more patient and gentle. These contrasting energies are present in us at all times. The Yang helps us get out of bed, craves the adrenaline of a hard workout, and lights us up when we're out to dinner with our friends. Yin, on the other hand, isn't quite as easy to detect, subtly guiding us inward to the softer side of ourselves.

It's the relief of closing our eyes when we're tired and the calm passivity of listening to our friend tell a story. But look at this symbol closely and you would realize that Yin and Yang are not wholly separate from one another. Each side is dotted with the opposite color, reminding us that everything contains the seed of its opposite. The crest of a wave—the Yang contains the calm energy of the water—while the crash of the wave, the Yin, only exists in contrast to the crest that preceded it. The Yang starts the action; the Yin receives it.

So when we ask, "How can I find peace in my life?" according to Daoism, peace comes from accepting the harmony between the Yin and the Yang—feeling your internal wave crest and then your crash, experiencing life as a ball thrown and allowing yourself to be caught in Daoism. The higher power is not an all-knowing benevolent figure, but rather the Yin and Yang of nature that we should all strive to align with. In paying attention to the natural rhythms of our life, of the world around us, and of the universe, we can learn to adhere to those rhythms. At least that's how Laozi wanted us to live: to be in harmony with the natural way of things in order to find the peace and meaning we're so desperately seeking.

To believe in the balancing forces of Yin and Yang and not fight against it. In Daoism, fighting nature has consequences. Complications in life are a direct result of us not letting Dao guide us. If we attempt to contrive what nature is putting before us, we knock our rhythms off course. Our Yin and Yang lose their harmony, and without that harmony, there is no outcome other than violence, aggression, or struggle. And none of us want that, do we?

Maybe, but maybe not. Because while living a life according to Daoism might create the traditional sense of peace and tranquility, we can't deny the fact that sometimes there are benefits to knocking the natural way of things off course—to breaking the status quo. Daoists think of the Yin-Yang as an inherent balance that can't be interrupted, and if it is, all hell breaks loose. But is that always the case?

Let's go back to our ball. It's thrown, filled with Yang energy, but this time it's intercepted, in its Yin energy, diverted, or perhaps it's not caught at all, and continues to ricochet off the bleachers and the rafters of a stadium. In that moment, fans start yelling. The faces of kids light up; announcers go wild as the natural harmony of the ball is interrupted. Excitement ensues, something new, something different. Yes, it might be dangerous and maybe even scary, but it is also what often leads to innovation and change. The struggle that comes from us rejecting the natural way of things, from stepping outside the boundaries of what nature has to offer, is what motivates giant leaps forward.

If humanity stayed content with the hands nature dealt us, we would never have planted a seed in the ground, and society as we know it wouldn't exist. The truth is that the desire for more has given us gifts that Laozi and his peers never could dream of. We've gone to space, cured diseases, created art, and built financial systems and governments out of nothing. While Daoism might advise us to steer clear of these advancements, very few of us could ever flat-out reject them. Can you imagine what our lives would look like if we did?

If we truly lived by the Yin-Yang, respecting the inherent balance of nature and not seeking out anything beyond it, we might enjoy the harmonious existence that Dao strives for. We might slow down and feel a sense of relief that is seemingly impossible in our fast-paced world. But will we truly be happy? Would we thrive as a species?

But perhaps there is a balance to be had. There's only so far a wave can go before it must come crashing down, and sadly it seems that our society keeps pushing that boundary forward. Today, we're taught to assert ourselves and take control of our own destiny. We learned the importance of rituals and routines, like not looking at our phones in the morning. These repeated habits hold us accountable and offer structure to our lives. We think they're going to help us attain that peace.

We manufacture an environment in which we're led to believe we can thrive. But none of this is living our lives according to Dao. All of these actions—ritual, structure, assertiveness—are the Yang energy. Without much balance, they define a life filled with action and agency—a wave that keeps cresting, growing larger and larger, like the infamous hundred-foot waves. But have you ever wondered why those waves are called rogue, freak, or killer waves? It's because they're dangerous, and only a handful of people on the planet can ride them without seriously harming themselves.

When our waves start to become larger than we control, perhaps it's time to calm down, to find the Yin, to respect Dao. Maybe then we might finally be able to find peace. But what even is peace? For some, like Laozi, peace meant accepting and conforming to the Yin-Yang, the interdependence of nature. But for others, to lose that sense of agency feels like the least peaceful way to live. To give yourself wholly to the whims of nature can be terrifying. The reality is that we all experience harmony in different ways.

In which case, we can all find our own definition of Dao. If constantly adhering to nature feels like overkill, what can we take away from Daoism that we can adapt to lead a more peaceful life? In 1959, Daoism and other religions were banned in China during the Communist takeover, but the philosophy has since seen a resurgence over the past two decades, with many people taking aspects of it and incorporating it into their own worldviews. Even native Chinese Daoists have since moved away from the texts in favor of more local traditions that express the philosophy.

Like so many religions that have been repurposed over centuries, and in this case millennia, there's no singular way to express its ideas. So many of us live our lives with a feeling of inadequacy about our accomplishments. We're constantly chasing and climbing the ladder of success that we never really take time to breathe and appreciate where we are now. In times like this, it's important to remember that we look to Daoism to remind us that there is a natural flow to our lives, that pushing too hard or forcing something that doesn't feel right isn't always the answer.

Sometimes we struggle to feel peace because the world around us is filled with negativity, crisis, and hardship. And so we wake up with a feeling of dread. Daoism helps us see that there's a beauty in even the smallest things around us, that there's an inherent balance that we can all be a part of, even if it doesn't seem obvious at the moment. Inevitably, we'll reach for our phones, answer emails, hit the like button on that vacation photograph we're jealous of. We'll stand up and go back to our busy lives filled with short attention spans and the need for instant gratification.

We'll forget about the balance. We might gorge ourselves with unhealthy food because we have no time for lunch or snap at our coworker over the wording of an email. We work ourselves up because that's what life demands of us; it's what keeps us afloat. But then we crash like that hundred-foot wave, finally reaching its peak and barreling down on whoever and whatever lays in its path. Because at some point, that balance has to be restored. The Yang has to find its Yin. Dao must be restored, whether we want it to or not.

Birth is suffering, aging is suffering, sickness is suffering, death is suffering. Sorrow and lament, pain, grief, and despair are suffering. Association with the unpleasant is suffering. Dissociation from the pleasant is suffering. Not to get what one wants is suffering. In brief, the five aggregates of attachment are suffering. If you've ever felt your life is an endless wave of suffering, you're not alone. Everything we hear has things going from bad to worse—wars, economic crisis, natural disasters. It feels like the world is always on the brink of collapse. How do we thrive in the midst of this chaos? How do we find peace when it feels like we're in the middle of a storm?

These are questions that Buddhism seeks to answer. At its core, ending suffering is what Buddhism seeks to achieve. It offers a path that is free of those tempests of doubt—one that is free of suffering: Nirvana. The origins of Buddhism date back to the 5th century B.C. in the ancient kingdom of Lumbini, now modern-day Nepal. Back then, the region served as a melting pot for religious and philosophical ideologies, much like today. Many traditions explored meaning, existence, life, and the nature of human suffering within this tapestry of diversity.

Hinduism stood out boldly as the dominant religion. Its influence could be felt through the caste system along with its many rituals and deities. From this complex status quo, Buddhism emerged as a reformed movement—one that questioned and ultimately sought to transcend the prevailing beliefs. The Buddha is the central figure in Buddhism, yet he isn't a chosen one that was bestowed this role. The figure we currently recognize as the Buddha was once known as Siddhartha Gautama—a prince born into a royal family in the region of Lumbini.

Rich, sheltered, and luxurious, a young Siddhartha had it all. Just for good measure, his father ensured that he was ignorant of the harsh realities of this world. Much of his youth was spent in blissful ignorance of suffering. However, his fate would change at the age of 29. Venturing outside the palace walls for the first time, he encountered the four sights: an old man, a dead man, a sick man, and a monk. These encounters influenced the young Siddhartha to question the nature of human existence and the perpetuity of suffering.

With the truth of life revealed to him, Siddhartha could not stay on the path he was born into—a life that was essentially a lie. He realized that he needed to break away, renouncing the royal life. He ventured out on a spiritual quest, one that aimed to find a solution to suffering. To achieve this objective, he studied under various teachers, practicing extreme forms of asceticism that his masters claimed would lead to enlightenment. However, six years of dedicated practice led to no insights.

Now 35, Siddhartha was none the wiser compared to when he began. Acknowledging his disappointment, he realized that both indulgence and severe asceticism were not bringing him closer to the levels of understanding he passionately sought after. Instead of following a path on either side of Hedonism and self-restraint, Siddhartha sought to find answers down the middle path—one that would avoid the extremes of self-indulgence and self-denial. With a new goal in mind, he meditated under a Bodhi tree. His path had taken him far from home. Now in Bodh Gaya, India, Siddhartha took a vow to remain in meditation until he had finally attained enlightenment.

49 days of deep concentrated meditation took place until eventually, he had a breakthrough. This revelation was so profound that its effects remain strong today. Siddhartha achieved insight into life itself. The nature of human existence, the causes of suffering, and the path to liberation were all clear in the eyes of the young monk. He had attained Nirvana. In that moment, he became the Awakened One—the Buddha. Following his enlightenment, the Buddha spent the next 45 years of his life teaching dharma, or the nature of reality. Much of Buddhism's history remains well preserved.

Thanks to this, we know that the Buddha's first sermon took place at Deer Park in Sarnath. It was here he laid out the foundational principles behind Buddhism. At that sermon, the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold Path were first revealed to the world. Those teachings were unlike anything many had seen before. Instead of a leap of faith seen in most religions, there was something akin to a science behind Buddhism. Its approach to understanding suffering, as well as spiritual liberation, was unique.

Over the years, Buddhist teachings attracted a diverse following. People from all walks of life could find something in his lessons. Kings, merchants, and commoners began to follow the Eightfold Path toward enlightenment. With Buddhist teachings spread across the region and eventually outward, they were passed down through oral tradition. Much of it was also written down in various scriptures that are preserved today. Over time, Buddhism evolved into different schools and traditions, and with each of these schools interpreting the Buddhist teachings in their own unique ways, despite the differences that existed, all forms of Buddhism share the same core goal: enlightenment and the end of suffering.

Much like Christianity centers on Jesus as a prerequisite to his teachings, Buddhism's Four Noble Truths are foundational to understanding its philosophy. The first is Dukha—dissatisfaction, discontentment, and suffering. The inherent inadequacy of life is Dukha. Physical pain, emotional distress, and impermanence are all forms of Dukha. Even in moments of happiness, the knowledge that it doesn't last forever is Dukha. Finally, moving out of your parents' house is an amazing moment, but that marks the end of your childhood and everything you had known thus far. It doesn't need to hurt.

In many ways, it's that gut feeling where life's ceaseless distress is inevitable. Birth, aging, sickness, death—these are all aspects of life we can't avoid, and they come with a dose of suffering. What causes Dukha? All forms of suffering have a cause, and they boil down to the same thing: craving or desire. We constantly want things in our lives: a better job, more money, a new car, a new phone, approval from others. This endless craving fuels our cycle of suffering because nothing is ever enough.

Even when you get the things you want, impermanence persists. If you had to endure extreme physical pain due to sickness, the anguish unquestionably exists. Yet for Buddhists, the mental anguish that comes with physical pain isn't something one has to endure. With meditation and the understanding of impermanence, there's a powerful undertone to draw from. If we're not attached to the natural, healthy body, a change in its state wouldn't go beyond the physical pain we are bound to experience. Sickness and injury—we can't avoid them—but how we react determines the unpleasantness of a situation.

Suffering is quite difficult to deal with, which is why the Third Noble Truth exists. The Buddha taught that suffering could come to an end. There's a state beyond suffering known as Nirvana—not the band, but much like the band, Nirvana feels amazing to engage with. When a Buddhist lets go of attachments and desires, they can break the cycle of craving. This way they won't have to be reborn into another life of suffering. Nirvana is understood as being free from the continual rebirth into samsara—the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. When all craving is gone, your soul is finally free from suffering, creating a state of enlightenment where you are awake to the true nature of reality.

The state of Nirvana is profoundly peaceful and liberating. In many ways, one can imagine it as taking a deep breath after life's drowning feelings of suffering have ceased. The final Noble Truth lays out a guided path to the end of suffering: the Noble Eightfold Path. This path presents eight practices that can help individuals to live a life that is more meaningful and ultimately free of suffering. In many ways, it's the Buddhist roadmap to personal growth and happiness beyond just Buddhism.

The path offers a poignant approach to dealing with life's problems: the road to Nirvana itself—the Noble Eightfold Path. Buddhism offers guidance, but it's important to not fall into the pitfall of attachment with this path. With the teachings of the Four Noble Truths, you can remain mindful as you seek enlightenment. Like many of the Buddhist teachings, this path is fractal—in other words, it can apply to little things and it can apply to the big questions in your life. It's also a circular path, so guiding principles reinforce one another. Most importantly, it's a lifelong process.

Everything that exists is conditioned by a process called dependent origination. This means everything we experience is a part of an impersonal process. Nothing is truly random; everything happens thanks to causes and conditions. If you see a plane for the first time, you wonder how flying works. This reaction leads to questions, research, desires, and actions related to that original sighting. The Right View in Buddhism involves seeing that the thing we call reality is just a web of concepts that we've created. Now you must recognize this truth and strive to see things as they truly are.

This means we need to accept the Four Noble Truths and let go of the idea of a fixed, permanent self—ego. The idea of "me" is actually a collection of ever-changing feelings, thoughts, and experiences. Once you're able to acknowledge this, you can support your journey through the entire path. Your mind is the source of everything you will ever produce, and therefore, you need to cultivate ethical and mental self-improvement practices.

Do you have thoughts filled with harmful intentions, ill will, and desire? Work on changing that. Instead, you'll need to foster goodwill, renounce desires, and cast out any desire to harm. The right intention might sound like a no-brainer, but the actual practice is important to cultivate. As your mindset becomes peaceful, you'll find that a harmonious state begins to grow within, allowing you to fully align with your spiritual goals.

Now, this part might be especially tough if you enjoy a fair bit of gossip. How you speak needs to be aligned with the right intentions. Speak with purpose—if you're fond of yapping, this might be a hard pill to swallow. And more importantly, you should speak truthfully and kindly. Right speech is connected to your inner monologue as well. You need to learn how to be kind and honest with yourself. Words have to come from a place of truth, so your communication must build up mental clarity and peace for yourself and others.

Words are one thing, but actions have always been the real test of intention. On the path, you must learn how to engage in actions that are non-harmful and ethical. Don't steal, kill, and engage in sexual misconduct. And while this might seem like common sense, it gets even deeper. Right action applies to your mental approach to meditation.

Allow thoughts to fade away gently, without a force, and maintain a peaceful state of mind. If you have a pink elephant in your thoughts, acknowledge its presence, understand its nature, learn to coexist with it, and let it fade away. This mindful acceptance helps you cultivate a harmonious and ethical way of living. The path to Nirvana is best forged by living an honest and ethical lifestyle.

However, you'll still need to make a living on the path. In doing that, you should choose a profession that doesn't cause harm to others. Traditional Buddhist teachings tend to advise against occupations that involve deceit, poisons, or weapons. For modern jobs, you want to get into fields that contribute positively to society—working in healthcare, teaching, farming, social work, engaging with nonprofits. These are all means of living that aim to reduce suffering.

Some jobs that might not be considered in alignment with the path also exist. Dealing drugs, working as an arms dealer, being in the gambling industry, and being a shady salesperson generally aren't seen as ethical. Beyond your literal source of living, this step highlights your mindfulness and meditation in every aspect of your life—your friends, parents, kids, and job. Your outer life should nourish your meditation.

The path to Nirvana is best followed with a persistent amount of effort. Your behavior is one that should cultivate wholesome states and abandon any unwholesome ones. Point your mind towards the goal, but don't introduce tension to it. Meditation isn't a one-day affair, so it will take some practice. Eventually, your mind might lean out of the present moment. Maintain your focus without being forceful, and while you'll find it difficult at times, right effort is about making a diligent, conscious effort to improving your behaviors and thoughts.

When you're fully aware of your thoughts, emotions, and actions in the present moment, you can use mindfulness effectively. Like effort, you will constantly need to remain aware. Observe your thoughts and actions—it's like balancing on a knife's edge. Observe it all, notice the nature of your experiences without attachment or avoidance. Like an out-of-body experience, you are simply watching, learning, and ensuring that your behavior aligns with the path.

Crafting your intentions and behavior through the path isn't easy. If you're on the straight and narrow, you'll achieve deep meditative absorption—Jhana—where the mind finally becomes unified and calm. This is often translated to concentration, but it goes far beyond that; it is a state of calm mixed with a pleasant abiding. With concentration, you can achieve a focused and tranquil state of mind, one that is essential for your personal growth.

Buddhism is inherently tied to the belief in an ongoing cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. This is called samsara, and samsara is driven by the existence of karma. While you're likely familiar with this term, karma in Buddhism refers to the law of moral causation—that is, the intentional actions of an individual result in future consequences. In simpler terms, your actions—whether good or bad—have a direct impact on your future experiences.

Karma isn't fate or destiny; it's purely cause and effect. Actions, words, and thoughts can attribute to our karma, and the same applies conversely. In Buddhism, rebirth isn't reincarnation. Instead of your soul transferring to a new body, rebirth is actually the transfer of a stream of consciousness influenced by karma. It's like a spectral version of the first law of thermodynamics. There's a connection, but not a permanent, unchanging self. Our current lives are shaped by past karma, and our actions in this life will influence our future rebirths.

For Buddhists, it's possible to break free of the cycle by building good karma. Eventually, one can break free of samsara and achieve Nirvana. The part of Buddhism you're likely familiar with is meditation. This practice is definitely just as cool as it looks, especially once you get the hang of it. Buddhism's most practical and transformative aspects are centered on the concepts of meditation and mindfulness. Thankfully, the Eightfold Path provides a way to get started. Still, it's helpful to have some tips to get started with meditation, especially in our modern age where some nuances make it in the way of Buddhist teachings.

Anapanasati, or breath meditation, is a great place to start. This practice focuses on the mindfulness of breathing. Studies have shown that mindful breathing techniques activate the amygdala, our brain's emotional regulation center. This reduces negative emotions within and stimulates positive changes in your mood. The best part is that breathing is accessible; you could get started right now. But now you're breathing manually—sorry, not sorry.

With meditation, you'll eventually become capable of manual breathing without distress. To do this, sit quietly and focus on your breath. As your mind wanders, gently guide your attention back to your breath. Regular meditation sessions will improve your concentration and clarity, offering a precious opportunity to be with yourself—not as a collection of hopes, dreams, or disappointments, but as a living being. You're not you anymore; you're breathing, and that's a powerful relief.

Popular in the United States, Zen Buddhism is a valuable form of meditation that positively affirms every aspect of your growth. This practice centers on sitting and being present. It's the sort of thing where your presence of mind allows you to appreciate life more fully and directly. To practice Zen Buddhism, sit in a comfortable upright position. As long as you're not baiting yourself into a nap, you should be fine. Ensure your back is straight, and let your hands rest on your lap. Keep your eyes slightly open while gazing downwards.

When breathing, use the techniques from Anapanasati. Focus on your breathing; mind the rhythm and flow of each breath. The aim is for you to be fully present in the moment. Incorporate Zazen into your daily routine if you're looking to cultivate a deep sense of awareness and tranquility. Zen meditation is the exact sort of thing you need before a big day: job interview, first date, final exam. As crazy as it sounds, Zen—if it's a part of your everyday life—the humongous moments will eventually be seen without the construct of desire.

That clarity is exactly what helps with your success. Like the keel of a sailboat, Zen provides stability and balance despite the winds and waves of life. Meditation keeps you stable in a storm. Even if you're having trouble adopting Buddhism's path towards enlightenment, these five precepts are a simple guide to get you in sync. If you want to live a morally good life, here's what you can adopt:

Abstain from taking life—try not to kill any living beings. For most people, that's an easy box to tick. If you're a semantic type of person, there are some layers worth digging into. On a practical level, this extends beyond not killing. Don't mistreat people or animals. Even if you eat meat, you've probably never gone to a slaughterhouse requesting the death of a cow for your sake. Ideally, you should adopt a vegetarian or vegan diet. At its core, treat all living beings with care.

Abstain from taking what isn't given. As a Buddhist, you should avoid stealing and learn to respect everyone's possessions. This extends to your integrity and fairness in your dealings. Abstain from sexual misconduct. You should avoid sexual behaviors that are harmful to others but also to yourself. If you're in a relationship, treat it with honesty and care. Practice mindfulness and be intentional.

Abstain from false speech—avoid lies, gossip, and harmful talk. Instead, we ought to speak truthfully and kindly, using our words to build up those around us rather than tear down. Even good lies might be dangerous at the same time. Context matters. If you have a friend displaying questionable life choices, it's not a bad thing to discuss a plan with other friends before a confrontation.

Abstain from intoxicants that cloud the mind. Vices are an easy way out of life's most aching pains. If we want to avoid suffering, it's important to put in the real work. Avoid substances that impair your judgment and mindfulness. Drugs and alcohol tend to be a prime example. Focus on maintaining a clear mind—one that is capable of making thoughtful and conscious decisions.

Following the Buddhist path is clearly not easy. At the same time, it's also super realistic. Once you start approaching Nirvana, you're likely going to need to take things a step further than usual. That means thinking on a macro scale. In many ways, seeking Nirvana means that Buddhism is less about managing your life as an individual but rather confronting existence itself.

As the state of ultimate liberation and peace, it sounds amazing. If you're a highly spiritual person seeking to escape the cycle of rebirth, it's the best deal you can get—the end of a long, difficult journey. As a regular individual with no grand thoughts relating to the universe, what's in it for you? In many ways, Buddhism hasn't really been about putting everyone on the same curriculum. It's not college; it's not Sunday School; it's life.

Everyone has growing pains they wish they could confront. These teachings exist to help us on a grand scale but also foster transformation on a personal level. Meditation and mindfulness exist to help you develop a calmer and clearer mind. When you learn how to live ethically, you'll gain a more harmonious life, fostering better relationships. If you've never had a moment of peace, these practices can offer solace.

For one, the constant noise, demands, expectations, and stress in your life won't end randomly. With Buddhism, though, you can brave through it all with a balanced state of being. If you find that the teachings suit you, apply them to your life as much as you can, and if they don't suit you, just leave them be.

What is teachings highly encourage? Your own research. As a practitioner, don't passively accept everything you hear and read simply because they're from a Buddhist. Instead, learn to question things. Much like with meditation, be gentle. Don't quickly reject those teachings either—see whether they're applicable based on your experiences along with the experiences of others on the path.

You know the feeling when it seems like everybody is against you? Those days when you suddenly feel like the most incompetent person in the room, and every move you make is met with harsh criticism. In those moments, it's easy to subconsciously absorb and internalize those negative comments. Without a strong support system or open communication with trusted loved ones, you might start believing those criticisms and see yourself as the bad things people say.

This internalized pain, even without malicious intent, can then be passed on to those around you. For example, if you've had a bad day at work, you might come home and unintentionally take it out on your family or friends. Meditation and mindfulness offer a mental sanctuary away from the things that seem to influence Dukha within your life. Just like the Eightfold Path presents, getting in the right frame of mind will take you through the most frustrating aspects of life's journey.

One of the most unique aspects of Buddhism is the lack of strict dogmas or commandments. You're not forced to feel like a failure if you stray from the path. Instead, it uses guidelines and practices to encourage a lifestyle that makes sense for your circumstances. Sure, it asks you to rise to the occasion, but not because a book said so. You are encouraged to learn the Buddhist teachings and test them.

If you ever feel confused, there are many Buddhist resources ready to lend a hand. With its flexibility, Buddhism can serve as a practical philosophy and way of life. Like with many religions, Buddhism has opened itself up to some profound thinkers. One of such philosophers was Shantideva, an Indian Buddhist scholar from the 8th century CE. He worked on "The Way of the Bodhisattva." His text outlined the path of the Bodhisattva, an enlightened being dedicated to helping all sentient beings attain liberation.

For context, a Bodhisattva is someone that sees awakening and is able to reach Nirvana; however, they have delayed that stage due to compassion for beings that are suffering. It's like the ultimate empath. In Buddhism, Shantideva spent a lot of his time as a monk and scholar studying the Bodhisattva. From his works, he highlighted that all the suffering in the world comes from seeking pleasure for oneself—all the happiness in the world comes from seeking pleasure for others.

This perspective is quite interesting because it centers on positivity as a way to create an altruistic world free from suffering. Yet Buddhism, as taught by Gautama Buddha, emphasized the role of suffering as inherent in life. This perspective from Shantideva complements Gautama Buddha's work, but it emphasizes the right thinking aspect of the Buddha's path. That's why it's important to never stop learning. Gautama Buddha gave Buddhists a guide that is functional and useful; however, he also said, "Set your heart on doing good; do it over and over again, and you will be filled with joy."

One of the most recognized voices promoting mindfulness and peace activism, Vietnamese Zen master Thích Nhất Hạnh, once said, "To think in terms of either pessimism or optimism oversimplifies the truth. The problem is to see reality as it is." This statement encapsulates mindfulness in a poignant way. Simplistic labels and judgments are easy to attach to ideas; however, the ability to truly see and accept reality can bring compassion not only to ourselves but to others as well.

Thích Nhất Hạnh was a steward practitioner and teacher for engaged Buddhism—a social movement that seeks to apply the teachings of the Buddha in order to enact social change. The metaphysical idea of a self is often challenged in Buddhism. The concept of anatta, or non-self, exists. Once we recognize the non-self, we can reach a new height on the path. At that higher level, we are no longer bound by egoistic desires and fears.

Famously, the Buddha sometimes chose not to answer questions concerning the self within the universe. Instead of getting into metaphysical debates, it was more beneficial to focus on the cessation of suffering. Such speculative questions only seem to dig deeper into a hole that doesn't help Buddhism's purpose. If the Noble Truths ask us to let go of ego, wouldn't it be pointless to engage with things that aren't inherently true?

Many philosophies are at odds with Buddhist ideas, so it is important to acknowledge these counterarguments. The materialist worldview is easily one of the bigger contrasts to Buddhism. What's real is what is tangible. Only the things that exist as physical matter are worth accepting. It also proposes that everything, including consciousness, is the result of material interactions. Therefore, from a materialist perspective, your happiness and satisfaction can only be derived from physical possessions and fulfilling sensory desires.

That cheeky DoorDash order is definitely real. The taste of a cheeseburger is filling, and you are undeniably happy. See it, touch it, smell it, taste it—it's literally right there! In our consumer-driven society, materialism is quite prevalent. Much of modern life is already designed around striving for material goals, and the pursuit of wealth is something heavily sought after. So why strive for spiritual enlightenment?

Thinkers like Ludwig Feuerbach argued that religion and spirituality were merely projections of human desires and needs. "Man is what he eats," as he once said. For a materialist, the urge to overcome desire and seek Nirvana is misguided and ignorant. For a hedonist, Buddhism's detachment from desire seems counterintuitive. In Hedonism, the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain serve as driving factors behind our behavior. Why should we give up pleasures when they are the things that make life more enjoyable?

According to hedonistic philosopher Epicurus, pleasure is the highest goal we can strive to achieve. Not what we have, but what we enjoy constitutes our abundance. The Epicurean Hedonism advocates for moderation—suggesting that true pleasure comes from a tranquil and moderate life, an interesting perspective that aligns with Buddhist teachings. The existentialist view is one of the most opposing to Buddhism. Existentialism challenges the notion of enlightenment. Instead of following a predefined path to enlightenment, existentialists argue that seeking an ultimate truth is a form of self-deception.

Prominent existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre once said, "Existence precedes essence." So individuals first exist before anything else. Then they must define themselves through choices and actions. The Buddhist goal of overcoming the self and achieving Nirvana is in contrast to an existentialist's play. For existentialists, the struggle to create meaning in an indifferent universe is worth embracing. Without belief in any deity or divine being, atheism seems to be something that tangentially agrees with Buddhism. Yet Buddhism is still a deeply spiritual experience.

While it's often considered non-theistic, Buddhists still believe in karma, rebirth, and Nirvana. To an atheist, this is unscientific and delving into the supernatural, therefore it's not worthwhile. Atheists like Richard Dawkins argue for a world that solely focuses on science and reason. From his book "The God Delusion": the supernatural, which includes concepts like rebirth, lacks empirical evidence; therefore, it should be abandoned in exchange for a rational, scientific understanding of the world.

Instead of practicing mindfulness with the belief in rebirth and Nirvana, atheists argue that we can adopt these behaviors due to their proven psychological and social benefits—abandoning the need for religious or spiritual justification. Nowadays, Buddhism has evolved and grown into a global religion practiced by millions around the world. It thrives in Asia, with strong numbers in countries like Thailand, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Japan, and Tibet. In Western countries, Buddhism has gained notable popularity for its practicality.

While Buddhism has some spiritual elements, the mindfulness practices it presents, along with values like compassion and ethical living, are important for a healthy society. With meditation, it's much more bearable to deal with the fast-paced lifestyle modern life promotes. In many countries, you'll find places like meditation centers, mindfulness workshops, and even Buddhist study groups. With flexibility as a helpful trait, Buddhist teachings are accessible to people from all types of backgrounds. In the same room, you'll find people on a spiritual path, those in need of a philosophical framework, and even folks simply looking to reduce stress.

Best of all, it's fully judgment-free. Much of this video centers on the teachings found in early Buddhism. It’s not a living tradition, so there's no dedicated Sangha or followers. However, many Buddhists will still classify under Theravada. The earliest texts are explored in this practice, and interpretations focus on what Gautama Buddha taught. If you're looking further into Buddhism, chances are that you'll encounter one of these three: Theravada, Mah