Can Detachment Become a Form of Avoidance?
Quote from Guest on February 17, 2025, 8:10 amStoicism teaches us to detach from externals, but is there a point where detachment turns into avoidance? If I withdraw from emotions, relationships, or ambitions to protect my tranquility, am I practicing wisdom or just escaping discomfort? How do you tell the difference between true tranquility and simply refusing to engage with life?
Stoicism teaches us to detach from externals, but is there a point where detachment turns into avoidance? If I withdraw from emotions, relationships, or ambitions to protect my tranquility, am I practicing wisdom or just escaping discomfort? How do you tell the difference between true tranquility and simply refusing to engage with life?
Quote from SlimPho on February 17, 2025, 1:02 pmGreat question. In my opinion, the key difference is intention. Stoicism isn’t about escaping life—it’s about engaging with it wisely. If detachment leads to isolation or inactivity, it’s probably escapism, not true tranquility.
For example, avoiding relationships because they might bring pain isn’t Stoicism; it’s fear disguised as wisdom. But being in relationships while accepting that love comes with uncertainty—that’s real detachment. The same goes for ambition. Quitting a goal because of fear of failure is escapism, but working toward it without being emotionally tied to the outcome is Stoic tranquility.
A good test: Does my detachment make me stronger and more present, or does it make me disengage from life? If it’s the latter, it’s not detachment—it’s avoidance.
Imagine a person who once loved painting but stopped because they feared criticism. If they say, “I don’t care what people think, so I just won’t paint anymore,” that’s not detachment—that’s escapism. True Stoic detachment would be painting because they love it, without letting external opinions dictate their self-worth.
True tranquility doesn’t mean cutting yourself off; it means facing life head-on without being ruled by it.
Great question. In my opinion, the key difference is intention. Stoicism isn’t about escaping life—it’s about engaging with it wisely. If detachment leads to isolation or inactivity, it’s probably escapism, not true tranquility.
For example, avoiding relationships because they might bring pain isn’t Stoicism; it’s fear disguised as wisdom. But being in relationships while accepting that love comes with uncertainty—that’s real detachment. The same goes for ambition. Quitting a goal because of fear of failure is escapism, but working toward it without being emotionally tied to the outcome is Stoic tranquility.
A good test: Does my detachment make me stronger and more present, or does it make me disengage from life? If it’s the latter, it’s not detachment—it’s avoidance.
Imagine a person who once loved painting but stopped because they feared criticism. If they say, “I don’t care what people think, so I just won’t paint anymore,” that’s not detachment—that’s escapism. True Stoic detachment would be painting because they love it, without letting external opinions dictate their self-worth.
True tranquility doesn’t mean cutting yourself off; it means facing life head-on without being ruled by it.