Pendulums, as I see them, are collective emotional patterns that survive by pulling attention and reaction from people. This aligns closely with Stoic thought, especially Epictetus’ teaching that “men are disturbed not by things, but by the views which they take of them.” A pendulum itself is neutral; it only gains force when people interpret it emotionally and feed it energy. Fear, anger, and outrage are its fuel, just as the Stoics warned against allowing externals to dictate our inner state.
Marcus Aurelius wrote, “You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” Detachment, in this sense, is not apathy but discipline of perception. By observing pendulums without identifying with them, I stay within what is in my control and release what is not. This mirrors the Stoic dichotomy of control, where peace comes from focusing only on one’s own thoughts, judgments, and actions.
What stands out to me is that freedom is not found in fighting pendulums, but in refusing to react to them. Seneca warned that “we suffer more often in imagination than in reality,” and pendulums thrive precisely in that imagined suffering. When I respond with awareness instead of emotion, the pendulum loses its grip. In that moment, attention returns to where it belongs: my own direction, values, and chosen path.