The Core of Epicurean Philosophy:
Pleasure is the beginning and the end of the blessed life.
But not the hedonism of wine-soaked debauchery. Epicurus was not referring to the superficial pleasures that come with constant consumption. No, Epicurus meant something far subtler and more sustainable: ataraxia—a deep, inner tranquillity. The kind of peace that arises when fear is dissolved and the soul is no longer tormented by longing or superstition.
He divided pleasure into two types:
- Kinetic pleasures: the active ones—eating when you’re hungry, warming up when you’re cold.
- Katastematic pleasures: the stable ones—peace of mind, freedom from fear, the absence of pain.
The second, he said, is where the true gold lies.
His Four-Part Cure (The Tetrapharmakos):
Like a philosophical balm for the aching soul, Epicurus offered four distilled truths:
- Don’t fear the gods
They’re not angry, they’re not watching you, and they’re not meddling in your life.
The divine is serene—be like that. - Don’t worry about death
When we are, death is not. When death is, we are not. So why fear a thing we never meet? - What is good is easy to get
Bread. Water. Friendship. The essentials of joy are within reach.
Luxuries complicate more than they console. - What is terrible is easy to endure
Pain, if sharp, passes. If chronic, it becomes bearable. Most suffering is in the fear, not the thing.
On Friendship, Simplicity, and the Soul
Epicurus held friendship as one of the greatest pleasures of life, perhaps even the highest. He wrote letters to his companions as if they were sacred. In his garden, everyone was welcome, slave and free alike, united not by rank but by the pursuit of peace.
He believed philosophy should be lived, not lectured. He believed that philosophy should not be a performance but rather a practice. He saw philosophy as a way to sift the soul clean of unnecessary fear and false desire.
As for simplicity, it wasn’t about deprivation but liberation from the constant gnaw of want. He believed that once we learn to enjoy little, we’re free.
“If you wish to be rich, do not add to your money, but subtract from your desires.”
What We Might Learn, You and I
If we were to walk barefoot with Epicurus today, he might ask us:
- What are you truly afraid of—and is it real?
- Which of your desires are natural? Which are vain?
- Who do you share your table with? Do you eat with joy?
- Can you find contentment in this moment, just as it is?
His path is not one of renunciation, but of right relationship—with pleasure, with fear, with longing, and with death.
A Few Soulful Fragments
“Death is nothing to us.”
“It is not what we have, but what we enjoy, that constitutes our abundance.”
“The wealth required by nature is limited and is easy to procure; but the wealth required by vain ideals extends to infinity.”
A Practice for the Day:
Before your next meal, pause and ask:
“What simple thing am I grateful for right now?”
Then eat slowly, with the reverence of someone who knows that joy often wears plain clothes.
Or perhaps this:
Take a walk with a friend and talk not of politics or news, but of the fears that keep you from peace. Then laugh together, for Epicurus said that even the gods smile upon those who find joy in friendship.
Epicurus invites us not to escape the world, but to live in it lightly, with less fear and more freedom.
He does not offer us grandeur, but gladness.
Not empire, but equanimity.
Not performance, but the quiet joy of being alive, in this very moment, together.
Would you walk with him?
