*Stoic calm meets modern self-care (think Ryan Holiday, Nedra Tawwab, Cal Newport).*
A friend once sank into my sofa and sighed, “I’m drowning… kids, work, friends, everything needs me.” I’ve been there too. Honestly, sometimes life feels like starring in Mariah Carey’s Whenever You Call, except everyone’s calling and texting, and DM-ing at once. My calendar wasn’t the villain; my lack of boundaries was. When we let everyone have unlimited access to our time and emotions, burnout shows up disguised as kindness.
The Stoics warned about this long before phones existed. They taught that our peace depends on what we allow to enter our circle of control: what’s ours to manage and what’s not. Epictetus said, “If someone succeeds in provoking you, realize your mind is complicit.” It’s a sharp reminder that while we can’t stop people from asking, pinging, or needing, we can decide whether to hand over our calm every time.
Imagine every notification as a tiny knock on the door of our mental house. The Stoics would say: you choose who gets to walk in. Marcus Aurelius spent whole journal pages coaching himself not to be pulled by gossip, praise, or complaint. He knew outside noise is endless; our response is optional.
The modern version? If a message can hijack our day, maybe it’s because we haven’t decided how to protect our attention. Ryan Holiday, in Stillness Is the Key, refers to this as the power of intentional stillness, stepping away from constant distractions and taking back control over when and how we respond. In a world designed to keep us reactive, stillness is rebellion. It’s choosing not to let every notification control our feelings.
In the end, I realized my mistake, and my friend’s too. We weren’t setting boundaries. We kept giving our time and energy without protecting our own needs. When we don’t set limits, people assume we’re always available. Requests pile up until it’s hard to focus on ourselves. Work, social life, favors — yes, yes, yes, until there’s no space left to rest or grow. The result? Burnout, resentment, and feeling taken for granted. Worst of all, when we’re busy meeting everyone else’s needs, we lose sight of our own goals, values, and desires. Terrifying.
One of my closest friends, a single mom with three kids, lived this too. A well-meaning friend kept pulling her to endless social events. Saying yes meant leaving her kids, pushing work aside, and coming home anxious and exhausted. One day, we talked about boundaries, and I suggested she try something small: “Thanks for asking me, but I need to stay home with my kids and catch up on work. Maybe another time.” A few weeks later, she came back smiling, as her friend respected it. A single, calm no saved so much energy. Nedra Glover Tawwab refers to these as “micro-boundaries” in her book, Set Boundaries, Find Peace, small, clear actions that protect us before resentment builds.
Digital life makes it even trickier. Phones make us feel we owe instant replies, as if every message is urgent. But Seneca reminded, “Life is long if you know how to use it.” If every ding can claim us, life slips away. Cal Newport warns about this in Digital Minimalism: How Constant Connectivity Erodes Attention and Joy. It’s okay to pause or not respond at all when a conversation doesn’t need us. “Appreciate you reaching out. We’ll reply after finishing this project.” is enough. And if the chat truly isn’t urgent or aligned with our values? It’s okay to leave it on read. Kindly, quietly, without guilt. Our silence isn’t aggression; it’s just not spending peace we can’t afford.
When I finally started saying no or simply not answering right away, I worried people would think I didn’t care. The opposite happened. The ones who respected me stayed. The ones who only wanted access drifted away, and that’s okay. In return, we feel lighter, less anxious, and more present for the things and people we truly love.
Boundaries aren’t walls; they’re gates. They let the right things in and keep the chaos out. They’re deeply Stoic: choose what belongs inside our control and let the rest go. Protecting our attention is protecting our life.
Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for us and for them is nothing. Don’t rush to fill the silence. Don’t pick up the phone just because it rings. Respond when we’re ready, or not at all. As the Stoics taught, our peace is ours to guard.
Next time the phone dings, breathe. We don’t have to be Mariah on call for everyone..
Love,
Kirana
