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Stoic Coffee BreakAuthor: Erick Cloward
"Act on your principles, not your moods." A weekly meditation on how Stoic principles can help you be a better human. https://stoic.coffee Follow us on social media: https://instagram.com/stoic.coffee Language: en Genres: Health & Fitness, Mental Health, Philosophy, Society & Culture Contact email: Get it Feed URL: Get it iTunes ID: Get it |
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The Game You Didn't Know You Were Playing | 388
Episode 417
Sunday, 23 August, 2026
So much of our lives are governed by rules that we aren’t even really aware of. Many of them we never even really question because we just assume that’s the way things are. But what if by questioning those rules, we can live with more agency, leading to a life we choose? “The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane. “ — Marcus Aurelius The Problem I grew up in Salt Lake City, in the Mormon Church. And when I say my life was prescribed, I mean prescribed. Mission. Marriage. Career. Family. In that order, on that schedule. It wasn't a suggestion — it was presented to me as the truth. Not "this is one way to live." This is the way. This is reality. I followed the path that I thought I as supposed to. I played the part as best I could but always felt like I was just repeating the lines someone else wrote for me. I didn’t feel like I was being authentically me, just the me that everyone else expected I should be. When I would question things or have experiences that contradicted what I was taught, I was told that I just needed to have more faith. That it was my fault that my belief wasn’t strong enough. So I doubled down, trying to fit myself into a system that didn’t work for me. I tightened the mask, hoping that this time it might finally fit. What’s interesting in looking back on my time in the church was that tended I gravitated to others that didn’t wear the mask. I envied those that bucked the system and followed their own path. Being around them I found that I could be more of my authentic self. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone that I wasn’t. And here's the thing about growing up inside something that total — you don't experience it as a rule. You experience it as just how things are. You don't question the water you're swimming in. The last few years I was in the church, I would attend church infrequently. It was exhausting trying to fit myself into a way of living that was so ill-fitting. I was at odds with the doctrine. Told that obedience to the leadership was more important than anything else. I got tried of “you just have to have more faith” as the answer to questions they couldn’t answer. I finally reached the point where I asked: is this actually true, or is this just what I was taught? The day I finally left, I didn't just leave a church. I left a rulebook I'd mistaken for reality itself. It literally felt like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt free. Once I left, I still had a long journey. Leaving the church, I lost a big part of my identity. I lost a community. I lost a certainty in how I was supposed to be in the world. It took years for me to find my footing and create a life by my choice, not the script that was handed to me. But here’s something important that I learned, and it’s something that most people will never understand. You are allowed to do exactly what you want in life and be the person you want to be. But it also comes with some caveats: 1. Everyone else is allowed to do the same. 2. You are responsible for your choices and actions. 3. You don’t get to choose the consequences of your actions. Maybe you didn't grow up Mormon. Maybe you didn't grow up religious at all. But I'd bet you're living inside a version of the same thing right now. A career path you never chose so much as inherited. A way of dressing, or dating, or succeeding, or how you’re supposed to act as a man or a woman, a way of being that you copied because everyone around you was doing it and it looked like law. Here's the uncomfortable question: how much of what you're doing right now is because it's true — or because it's expected? We treat these two very different things like they're the same. There's what's actually true — gravity, death, the fact that actions have consequences you don't control. And there's what's agreed upon — how a man is supposed to act, what a "respectable" life looks like, how long you're allowed to be sad before people get uncomfortable. One of those doesn't care what you think. The other is just a bunch of people's habits, dressed up to look like law. But here’s the thing: when you’re younger you think that adults have it all figured out and that when you grow up, you’ll have it figured out too. But the real truth is this: we’re all just making it up. Most of the “rules” are just conventions. They’re habits that we’ve agreed to as a society. It’s just a game that we’re all playing. That's the trap. Not that the game exists — because it always will. The trap is forgetting you're allowed to notice you're playing it. The Philosophy Epictetus has a way of putting this that cuts through the noise: "Remember that you are an actor in a play, the character of which is determined by the author... whatever character he gives you, act it naturally. For this is your duty, to act well the part that is given to you; but to select the part, belongs to another." — Epictetus, Enchiridion 17 You don't pick your role. You didn't choose your family, the time you live in, your body, most of your circumstances. That part's not negotiable. That's fate. That's nature. But here's what people quietly assume, but Epictetus never said: that the script is fixed too. It isn't. How you play the role — that's entirely yours. And most of what we call "the rules" isn't the role. It's just the version of the script the people around us happen to be using. Why do we follow this script, even when it doesn't fit? Marcus Aurelius gets at the mechanism: "It is in our power to have no opinion about a thing, and not to be disturbed in our soul; for things themselves have no natural power to form our judgements." — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 6 The rule doesn't have power over you. Your agreement to it does. Take the agreement back, and the rule is just a suggestion somebody made up. This isn't just old philosophy. Brené Brown found the same thing studying belonging. She draws the line like this: "Belonging is being accepted for you. Fitting in is being accepted for being like everyone else. If I get to be me, I belong. If I have to be like you, I fit in." — Brené Brown, Braving the Wilderness And she says it even sharper in one line: “the greatest barrier to belonging is fitting in.” — Brené Brown Most of what we call "the rules of life" is just scaffolding for fitting-in dressed up as necessity. It isn't. Now — before this turns into an excuse to blow everything up, remember: you get to choose how you play your role. You do not get to choose what happens when other people react to it. That's still not yours. Dropping a convention doesn't mean the world applauds or changes for you. It might mean people are confused, annoyed, or gone. That's the actual price of the ticket — and it's worth paying, but only if you go in with eyes open. Practice Okay. So how do you actually tell the difference between a real rule and a made-up one? Step one: the nature-or-convention check. Take something you're currently obeying without question. Ask it one question: does reality enforce this, or does a group of people enforce this? Gravity doesn't need anyone's cooperation. It just is. "You should have your career figured out by 30" needs everyone around you to agree to it — and enough of them do that it feels like law. It isn't. It's consensus. Run a few things through it. Death is nature. Grief having a "proper" timeline is convention. Cause and effect is nature. What counts as a "respectable" job is convention. You'll be surprised how much of your daily anxiety is you enforcing a rule that nobody's actually holding a gun to your head about. Step two: name the fear underneath it. Once you've spotted a convention you've been treating like gravity, ask: what do I actually think happens if I break this? Say it out loud. Specify it. Not "bad things" but "My mother will be disappointed." "People will think I've failed." "I'll lose my place in the group." Usually what's underneath isn't catastrophe. It's disapproval. That's real, it costs something — but it's not the same category of thing as danger. Naming it strips the myth off it. Step three: one deliberate move. Pick one small, low-stakes convention this week and break it on purpose. Not to be reckless — to notice. Notice that the world doesn't end. Notice that some people react. That reaction belongs to them. It always did. This isn't about becoming a contrarian for its own sake. It's about finding out, in a small way, which parts of your life are foundational and authentic, and which parts you've just never tested. Conclusion Here's what this isn't: it's not permission to burn everything down and call it freedom. You're still in the play. You still have a role — family, work, responsibilities, people who depend on you. None of that goes away. What changes is why you're playing it. There's a difference between reciting lines someone handed you because you never thought to ask if they were true, and standing in the same spot, saying the same words, because you've actually chosen them. From the outside those two things can look identical. From the inside, they're the whole difference between a life you choose and a performance. What is this is really about is seeing the game for what it is. It’s understanding the difference between reality and the “rules” that society quietly enforces. Those rules can be bent or even broken. But remember, you can’t control the consequences. You don't get to control how people respond when you make that shift. Some will be confused. Some will be hurt. Some will leave. That was never yours to manage, and it never is. That's the price, and it's worth paying, because the alternative is spending your one life optimizing for a game you never actually agreed to play. So this week, find a rule. Ask if it's real. And if it's not…maybe it’s time to break it. The Build an Unbreakable Mind program for building mental discipline is now open for enrollment!My book Stoicism 101 is available! Order here!Find out more at https://stoic.coffeeWatch episodes on YouTube!Find me on linkedIn, instagram, or threads.Thanks again for listening! Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
