Buffalo, NY—Marcus Aurelius was the Roman Emperor from 161 to 180 during the Nerva-Antonine dynasty, a period of relative peace and stability across the vast Roman Empire. He was also a Stoic philosopher and the author of Meditations, a revered work of literature and a monument to service and duty. Marcus wrote Meditations as a source of personal guidance and self-improvement, never intending for it to be published. Yet, it has become the basis of a practical philosophy of which Rachel Rippington, a high school guidance counselor, is a practitioner.
Rippington has done her best to remain disciplined in her practice, both personally and professionally, but has had to adjust her approach to meet the bullshit of the world. In most cases, especially when it comes to Stoicism’s central tenet: control what you can and let go of the rest, she has been able to adhere to the philosophy.
She explained, “The world is chaotic, and to stay grounded, you must maintain control of your emotions. So when one of these overindulged sophomores sits down with me to hammer out a new schedule and can’t look away from their phone or is disrespectful, I don’t get mad or lash out, I just put the little shithead in Mr. Pulusi’s first-period English class. You see, Pulisi is an old-school gangster—he makes those kids secure multiple binders, notebooks, journals, colored pens, pencils, and markers. He makes them follow the rules of The Chicago Manual of Style to perfection and pummels the shit out of them with the Oxford comma, and the lady known as Macbeth. Don’t even try passing off an AI-written essay—his bullshit detector is set to eleven. It’s also not a good idea to have your mom call him to complain because he’ll dress her sloppy ass down too.”
The Stoics also place great emphasis on virtue, encompassing wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance. In traffic, when someone flips off Rippington for texting while driving or for being a little too involved in one of her Khatia Buniatishvili playlists, she doesn’t respond in kind. Instead, she attempts to diffuse the situation by blowing kisses from her hand at the person flipping her off. Often, however, this only further enrages the motorist. Rippington is quick to point out, “My rejoinder cascades with peace, love, and temperance. It’s not on me if they can’t handle it, the fucking babies.”
As successful as she has been in assimilating Marcus Aurelius’ teachings into her everyday life, Rippington sometimes encounters unhinged people who pose a significant challenge, forcing an adjustment. There was an encounter at Home Depot, where a guy with one of those long, stupid beards and a bandana was trying to return a gallon of Feldgrau-colored paint he didn’t need for his WWII-themed man cave—Feldgrau is the same blue-gray color as Nazi uniforms.
He was giving the customer service representative a horrible time, despite her patience explaining the store policy about not accepting returns on custom-mixed paint. Holding the shovel she was returning, Rippington had the urge to bash this guy’s skull in—in her mind’s eye, she saw him on the ground, blood trickling from his stupid smashed-in complaining head, while others waiting in line applauded her actions.
But she dug deep and showed restraint. Instead, she leaned her shovel against a nearby Ryobi display. Then she stood behind this guy, and summoning all her strength, latched onto his barely visible tighty whiteys and proceeded to give him a thermo-nuclear wedgie, eventually tearing the band off his Fruit of the Looms. Stunned, the guy turned around, cursing and tried to hit Rippingerton with his can of paint. She smoothly ducked and store security quickly wrapped the guy up and walked him to his F150, which, of course, was equipped with balls tethered to the truck’s hitch.
Patting her on the back, people in line, store staff, and security asked if she was okay. Rippington said she was fine, and as she made her exchange, she was proud of how she kept herself in check and felt a sense of extreme peace—thanks to her Stoic practice.
