Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 5.26

Let the part of your soul that leads and governs be undisturbed by the movements in the flesh, whether of pleasure or of pain. And let it not unite with them, but let it circumscribe itself and limit those affects to their parts.

But when these affects rise up to the mind, by virtue of that other sympathy that naturally exists in a body that is all one, then you must not strive to resist the sensation, for it is natural.

But let not the ruling part of itself add to the sensation the opinion that it is either good or bad.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5 (tr Long)

I long ago lost track of how many times people have told me that Stoicism is cold, heartless, or denies the value of our feelings. This is sadly what the word has come to mean in daily use, yet this confuses the man who orders his emotions with the man who denies his emotions.

It is ironic that the people I know who genuinely live in a Stoic manner, those who don’t just mouth the fancy words but embrace the spirit of the task, are some of the most deeply feeling people I’ve ever met. They will have an intense sense of compassion, even empathy, for others, and whether they are reserved or outgoing, will be profoundly conscious of their own feelings and the feelings of others.

What will make them so different from others, however, is not that they are passionate, but how they always strive to be the masters of their feelings. They will neither let themselves be tossed around by their emotions, pulled this way and that, nor suppress or ignore them. They will accept what they feel, they will seek to understand it, and then they will use the power of their judgment to put it in its proper place. They will feel pleasure and pain, though they will not assume that these impressions are in themselves beneficial or harmful, or have any direct control over our estimation.

However they may express it, in Stoic language or in different terms, such people understand that the heart will feel, while the mind must guide those feelings. They recognize themselves as beings of both reason and passion, where the latter must be in the service of the former.

Marcus Aurelius explains that the problem is never in having emotions at all. It is right and natural to feel, and sometimes to feel very strongly.  As they say, real men aren’t afraid to cry. The problem is when we judge poorly about them, and do not allow our understanding to make good use of them. The passions are not good or bad, but only what I choose to do with them is good or bad.

In the Phaedrus, Plato uses the allegory of a chariot to describe the human soul. The charioteer represents the mind, while the horses represent our instincts and passions. A similar image is employed in the Katha Upanishad:

Know that the Atman (self) is the driver and the chariot,

and the body is the chariot.

Know that the Buddhi (intelligence, ability to reason) is the charioteer,

and Manas (mind) is the reins.

The senses are called the horses,

the objects of the senses are their paths.

Formed out of the union of the Atman, the senses and the mind,

him they call the "enjoyer".

Just as the driver can direct the power of the horses under his control to get to his destination, so the mind can direct the power of impressions to live well. Just as the driver who cannot tame his horses will be thrown or dragged about, the mind that cannot tame the passions will be thrown or dragged about.

I am most certainly a creature of feeling, and this has its rightful place. I am also a creature of reason, and this has its rightful place. All is well when the driver leads the horses, but things will end poorly when the horses lead the driver. 

Written in 7/2006