Fate. That invisible force hanging about. You can’t see it, but you can definitely feel it; pushing you into unexpected places. To us modern mortals, fate often seems like a fickle and unfair force. It cancels your big interview because of traffic but gets you the job of your dreams through a chance meeting at a coffee shop. Sometimes it feels cruel, other times inexplicably important, as if it’s nudging you toward something greater.
The ancient Stoics knew this paradox of fate. They decided instead of wasting time ruminating about the inexplicability of life, they would get cozy with the chaos. Their philosophy is part tough love, part motivational poster, and 100% applicable to the modern chaos that surrounds us.
Fate Isn’t Out to Get You (Probably)
Fate isn’t something to fear, and it’s not out to sabotage your carefully laid plans. Think of it less as a cosmic prankster and more as the steady, logical unfolding of life. The Stoics called it logos—the rational order of the universe. Fate, to them, wasn’t mysterious or magical; it was simply how things worked. Marcus Aurelius said it best: “Accept whatever comes to you woven in the pattern of your destiny, for what could more aptly fit your needs?”
Instead of railing against life’s twists and turns, the Stoics leaned in. Epictetus dropped this wisdom: “Seek not for things to happen as you wish, but wish for things to happen as they do, and you will go on well.” In other words, the magic of fate isn’t in controlling what happens but in embracing what is and asking, “What’s next?”
That’s the beauty of fate—it works without your micromanagement. Nietzsche would call this amor fati, or loving your fate; every mundane, messy, and serendipitous piece of it.
When we let go of the illusion of control, life opens up to us. If we let go of control, unexpectedly losing a job isn’t punishment from the universe, it’s a new door swinging open to something new in your life.
The Control Freak’s Survival Guide
Let’s talk about control—or more specifically, how little of it you actually have. The Stoics were masters at dividing life into two piles: things you can control and things you absolutely cannot control. Spoiler alert: the “can’t control” pile is enormous and includes basically everything external to you. Marcus Aurelius summed it up perfectly: “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
Jane is late again and she is now stuck in traffic. Does she rage at the cars around her, lay on the horn, and question the life choices that led her to this moment? Absolutely not. Instead, she cranks up an embarrassing playlist (because nobody can hear her), redistributes her makeup from “tired raccoon” to “semi-functional human,” and snacks on that granola bar she forgot she stashed in the glove compartment. Jane might not have mastered time management, but in that moment, she’s crushing self-mastery.
Mastering yourself is as “easy” (ha!) as knowing yourself. It’s in those little choices: what you listen to, how you spend your energy, where you focus your attention. The Stoics understood that self-discovery is a lifelong practice. By understanding what’s in your control, you free yourself to grow, adapt, and thrive. Control isn’t about bending the universe to your will; it’s about steering yourself through life’s chaos like the calm captain of your own ship.
Loving Your Fate (Even When It Sucks)
Here’s where the Stoics shine for me: They didn’t just accept fate—they loved it. They called this amor fati, or “love of fate.” Marcus Aurelius, philosopher and part-time emperor, wrote, “A blazing fire makes flame and brightness out of everything that is thrown into it.” Translation? Be the fire. Whatever fate throws your way—lemons, speeding tickets, or a full-on disaster—turn it into fuel for growth.
A Jane spilled coffee on herself like a goose, ran into the car next to her as she yelled at the burn. And the driver of the other car? Twenty years later and he’s her husband and she has never been happier. Was every moment of that mess fun? Absolutely not. But did it shape her into a person who embraces love, messiness, and serendipity. That’s amor fati. It’s about recognizing that even the messiest, most chaotic parts of life have something to offer, even if it’s just a funny story later.
For us, loving our fate means leaning into the present moment, imperfections and all. Got passed over for a promotion? Maybe this is the nudge you needed to start the project you’ve been putting off. Lost touch with an old friend? Fate might be clearing space for someone new. Amor fati isn’t about sugarcoating—it’s about owning every part of your story, even the cringeworthy bits, and seeing them as essential to your growth.
So, What Can We Take From the Stoics?
The Stoics weren’t about perfect lives or guaranteed happiness. They were about resilience, self-mastery, and finding beauty in the mess. Fate, to them, wasn’t some cosmic punishment—it was the framework for living authentically.
Here’s what you can do today:
- Reflect on Resistance – What are you pushing against in your life right now? Is it something you can control or something you can’t? Epictetus reminds us, “It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”
- Practice Amor Fati – Think of one challenge you’ve faced recently. How can you embrace it as part of your path instead of resisting it? Marcus Aurelius said, “Accept whatever comes to you woven in the pattern of your destiny, for what could more aptly fit your needs?”
- Anchor Yourself with Wisdom – Let Aurelius guide you: “You have power over your mind—not outside events.” Write it down, memorize it, live it.
- Look for Gratitude in the Chaos – What’s one thing in your life that didn’t go as planned but turned out for the better?
Imagine standing in the middle of a storm. You can’t stop the rain or control the thunder, but you can choose how you meet it. You can dance in the downpour, savor the smell of wet earth, and remind yourself that storms pass. The Stoics teach us that fate isn’t our enemy; it’s our collaborator. When you stop fighting what is and start working with it, life feels less like a battle and more like a rhythm. Even when you stumble or step on your own toes, you’re still moving.
The dance isn’t perfect, but it’s yours—and that’s enough.