the stoic actor

I’ve always been drawn to the idea of control—not in the sense of manipulating outcomes, but in mastering myself. Acting, like life, is chaos. You prepare, you plan, and then everything goes sideways. The industry is unpredictable, auditions can be brutal, and no matter how much work you put in, rejection is always lurking around the corner. That’s where Stoicism comes in.

Marcus Aurelius, the Roman Emperor-slash-philosopher, wrote Meditations as a way to keep himself grounded. He didn’t write it to impress anyone. It was just him, keeping himself in check, reminding himself of the things he could control and the things he couldn’t. That mindset? That’s everything when it comes to acting.

The Role of Control in Performance

In this business, you have zero control over how people see you, whether you book the role, or what the final cut of a project looks like. You don’t control the casting director’s mood, the director’s vision, or the audience’s reaction. But what can you control? Your craft. Your discipline. How prepared you are when you step into that audition room. How you respond to failure.

Aurelius put it best: “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” Every time I walk into a room, I remind myself—I can’t force them to give me the role, but I can make damn sure they remember me.

Detachment From Outcome

One of the hardest lessons in this industry is letting go of the outcome. You can give the best audition of your life and still not book it. Maybe you remind the director of their ex. Maybe they already promised the role to someone else. Maybe you’re just two inches too short. None of that has anything to do with your talent.

That’s why Stoicism teaches detachment. Do the work. Give everything. And then walk away. Aurelius would say: “Just that you do the right thing. The rest doesn’t matter.” I apply this to every performance. Once the scene is done, it’s done. I don’t obsess over whether they liked me, whether I’ll get the callback. My job is to show up and leave it all on the table. The rest? Not my concern.

Using Adversity as Fuel

Failure is a given. This career will humble you fast. But Stoicism flips failure on its head. Amor fati—love your fate. Everything that happens, good or bad, is fuel. A missed opportunity? More time to sharpen your craft. A rejection? Proof you’re in the game. A bad performance? A lesson.

Marcus Aurelius wrote: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” You either let obstacles break you, or you use them. Every rejection, every setback—fuel. It’s all part of the process.

Stoicism in Character Work

Great characters—real, human, flawed—struggle with the same internal battles that Stoicism addresses. When I build a character, I ask: What do they fear? What do they crave? What are they trying (and failing) to control? Every strong performance is rooted in that conflict.

Think about any great role—there’s always an internal war going on. The trick is making sure that war is felt, even in silence. That restraint, that tension—that’s where Stoicism and acting meet.

The Takeaway for Creatives

Acting, art, any creative pursuit—it’s a long game. It’s about resilience. If you’re only in it for the validation, you won’t last. But if you commit to the craft, to self-mastery, to controlling only what’s yours to control, you’ll find a kind of freedom most people never touch.

So if you’re an artist, an actor, or just someone chasing something bigger than yourself—remember: Do the work. Let go of the outcome. Use everything, even failure. And keep moving forward. The rest? Not your concern.