You Don’t Get Taller by Chopping Down Trees

The Podium Illusion

When we roll our eyes, clap back, or polish the perfect snarky reply, it feels like we’ve climbed onto a podium. For a flicker of time, we stand taller. But the truth is we haven’t grown, we’ve just cut the trees around us to stumps. A forest made smaller is no achievement.

The Stoics warned about this long ago. Epictetus reminded his students that insults only have power if you hand it to them. Every time you drag someone, you trade a piece of your own character for a handful of cheap applause. It’s like taking out payday loans on your integrity. Expensive, addictive, and never truly enriching.

"True growth isn’t found in cutting others down, it’s in standing tall together, like trees on a mountainside. Strength lies in rising without diminishing the forest around you."

The Hidden Math of Tearing Down

Negativity feels like fire. It crackles, it flares, it demands attention. Comments stack, allies nod, and for a moment it feels like heat is power. But the blaze doesn’t build, it burns.

When you feel that spark, pause and ask yourself: What am I feeding? If you toss in more fuel; rumination, snark, contempt, the fire grows, but nothing fruitful remains. Hours are lost, and character is singed in the process.

Instead, try water. Water cools, nourishes, sustains. When anger rises, reassert the virtue that brought you here in the first place. Courage can flow into honest but measured words. Justice can flow into fair action. Temperance can flow into silence that speaks louder than insults. Wisdom can flow into clarity and forward movement.

"Negativity burns fast, but water endures. Like blossoms fed by lake and mountain streams, we grow stronger when we pour our energy into nourishment, not flames."

The Stoics would call this true investment, pouring energy into what you can shape instead of watching it go up in smoke. And here’s the gift: every time you choose water over fire, you don’t just extinguish destruction, you irrigate growth. Your patience grows steadier, your respect grows stronger, your wisdom grows clearer.

The urge to tear down will always spark. But sparks don’t dictate the forest. You do.

The Stoic Frame: Control and “Let Them”

A classic Stoic exercise is to sort life into two piles: what is up to me, and what is not. Another person’s gossip, mistakes, or boasts? Not up to me. My response? Entirely mine.

Marcus Aurelius began his mornings bracing himself for difficult people, reminding himself that their nature couldn’t wound him unless he gave consent. This is the Stoic superpower: withholding assent. A flash of irritation or the urge to mock may rise up, but whether we water it is our choice.

Modern wisdom offers a phrase that dovetails with this practice: let them. If someone gossips, let them. If someone chooses pettiness, let them. If someone tries to drag you through the mud, let them. Their behavior belongs in the “not up to me” pile. But here’s the key: letting them doesn’t mean letting yourself. It doesn’t mean rolling over or swallowing harm. It means recognizing that their path is theirs, and you are free to choose another.

Think about it: you’re in a meeting, and someone throws a snide comment your way. The instinct is to snap back or to shrink. But there’s another way. You calmly ask, “Can you explain what you mean by that?” Suddenly, the heat drops. You’ve shifted the frame without throwing a punch.

Or imagine a friend sliding into gossip. Instead of joining in or awkwardly standing silent, you can say, “I don’t feel right talking about them like this.” A boundary has been drawn, firm but not cruel.

Sometimes the wisest move is to redirect. A coworker stirs up drama, and instead of fanning the flames, you pivot: “Okay, but what’s our next step here?” You’ve turned friction into forward motion.

"Footprints aren’t just left behind, they’re chosen with each step."

And yes, sometimes the strongest response is stepping out entirely. Walking away, logging off, or letting the conversation drop. Not out of weakness, but out of strength, the choice to guard your peace.

The Stoics remind us that life is never as linear as it feels in the heat of the moment. It’s rarely just fight or freeze. There are always more paths: clarity, boundaries, redirection, withdrawal, silence. Let them simply means remembering you’re free to take those other roads.

Social Ecology: The Garden You’re Growing

Think of every interaction as planting something. Contempt plants thorns; respect plants thyme. Both sprout, but only one will feed anyone worth feeding. Sarcasm spreads like weeds, fast and choking. Respect, on the other hand, changes the climate. It lowers the temperature of the conversation, draws in better pollinators, ideas, insights, allies, and increases the yield for everyone.

We can’t control the weather, but we can choose the seeds. And sometimes, the wisest move is simply to notice when someone else is sowing thistles and whisper to yourself: let them.

Redirecting the Urge

So what do you do in the moment, when the spark flares and your tongue itches to strike? First, catch it. Say to yourself, “Ah, there’s the urge.” Then breathe. Three deep, slow breaths. This tiny pause buys you sovereignty. In that sliver of space, aim at a virtue. Justice means fairness. Temperance means balance. Courage means truth without venom. Wisdom means clarity before reaction.

With virtue in mind, you can choose differently: ask a clarifying question, respond with measured honesty, or sometimes, most powerfully, say nothing at all. As the Stoics remind us, silence can be the strongest stance of all.

The Updraft

“Every choice is a seed. Patience, respect, and courage are the waters that help us rise among the trees.”

You don’t rise by chopping down trees. You rise by tending your own roots. You rise by choosing water over fire, by planting respect instead of contempt, by remembering that “let them” doesn’t mean letting yourself, but choosing another path.

The Stoics remind us that our only true asset is character, and every choice is a deposit or withdrawal. You can squander it in cheap applause, or you can invest it in patience, fairness, courage, and wisdom.

Every spark of irritation, every snide remark you hear, every moment you’re tempted to shrink or strike back. These aren’t obstacles, they’re training weights. They’re invitations to practice sovereignty. To remember that life is never as narrow as fight or freeze; there are always more roads.

So the call is simple, and it is daily: When someone tries to drag you low, let them. When the fire flares, bring water. When contempt tempts you, plant respect instead.

Rise without pushing anyone down. Guard your peace. Grow your character. Walk tall among the trees, and by your example, help the whole forest grow taller too.