Appreciate this list, Latham. As someone who has, in the space of maybe 5-8 years, had my core identity upended more than once, I sympathize with your monument metaphor. I'm increasingly aware of how I can only write such a list after major disruptions. Most of the big upheavals we can't see coming. And many of those forces scoff at whatever lists we've made. I always enjoyed teaching American naturalism -- Jack London, Stephen Crane, Ambrose Bierce. The upshot of that literary movement is that we're little more than a fleck of bran in the cosmic muffin.
On your subject of a good death, it's interesting to note that Tolstoy's Ivan Ilyich would have thought, until his terminal illness, that he had his monument scripted perfectly. What a powerful tale about how to avoid living the wrong life. It's counterpart might be Willa Cather's "Neighbour Rosicky," a story about a Czech farmer in Nebraska. I know of no other story that describes a good death better. And one thing I appreciate about it is that we understand that Rosicky's death isn't purely about his own serenity -- it's about how he shares that serenity with others, how dying well in fact requires him to turn away from himself toward his family.
Thank you for sharing all of this Josh. As I thought about your timeline, I realized that 6 years ago this month I left the Navy and disrupted my own life. It's a process which I'm still in the middle of, and I've intentionally made a lot of changes in those 6 years (switching careers, moving to CA and then to MT, starting and shutting down a company). While I may have made the decision to disrupt my life, I still empathize with your realization that we can't write these lists when we're in stasis. They only come from searching, from desperately trying to grasp for something.
I haven't read Neighbour Rosicky. I'm going to add that to my list.
Such a thought provoking exercise, Latham. Your monument collection here is as aspirational as it is humbling. And I love the paradoxical nature of these two ideals: live with iron-clad integrity, and also live as gauze blowing in the wind... you’re always invited to change when life shows you the way.
On that latter note: This line struck all the chords for me, “Writing truthfully means seeing the world as an outsider. Living truthfully means having the courage not to fit in.” If I were to pick one wound that refuses to heal, it’s this one in a landslide. This week, I’ve been particularly consumed and heart broken by it. Clearly I needed the Jungian synchronicity of reading your piece today. My spirit guides took note and sent me this message. Being an outsider isn’t a cross to bear or a flaw to fix. It’s a blessing to celebrate. I’m so grateful for the reminder. Thanks Latham!
I got shivers when I read your note. Being an outsider is a really tender wound. After I'd written this and scheduled it to be published, I was hit last night by a deep wave of sadness about how I don't fit in. About not knowing who I related to, all brought on by a silly birthday education (and maybe the fact that I turn 40 in a few weeks and I may be ignoring my small freak out).
I'm so grateful you shared and just as grateful that it struck a chord. May we work together on it.
Are you serious?! “Deep wave of sadness about how I don’t fit in” is precisely what I experienced this week. How wild, but kinda awe-inspiring in a strange way! (we’re not alone!!) Well, you fit into my misfit ship just fine, Latham! Welcome aboard! We got this!! And 40 is both a big deal and no deal at all, haha! At the ripe age of 43, my existential crises remain, but I’m smarter and kinder to myself (hmm mostly). It’s definitely ok to freak out a bit. The passage of time can be a cruel beast when we notice she’s breathing down our necks!! She’s much more tame when we walk side by side. (PS: thank you for your vulnerability here!! You’ve helped so much this week!)
What a generous essay. I imagine it was a meaningful process to put these elements and guideposts together; it's certainly meaningful to read. I just moved to Annapolis, so the image and metaphor of the tomb made me want to get over to the chapel to see for myself.
I'm struck by the empathy that runs through these aspirations, for yourself as well as others. In his excellent bio of U.S. Grant, Ron Chernow returns often to Grant's exemplary humanity. In a passage after the horrific fighting at Fort Donelson, Grant is surveying the frozen fields of battle. After giving a swig of brandy to two wounded men - a Union officer and a Confederate private - he says, "I suppose this work is part of the devil that is left in us all." Then he quotes a passage from Robert Burns, which apparently was not uncommon for him: "Man's inhumanity to man / make countless thousands mourn."
Julie, I love that you moved to Annapolis. It's such a beautiful city, and I imagine even more so when you're not trapped behind the walls at the Naval Academy. You should go visit the chapel, see his crypt, see noon formation from Tecumseh, and even go see a parade on Friday. If you do any, or all of, that, I'd love to know what I got wrong in my descriptions from memory. It has been many years since I was there (I joined right after 9/11).
Thank you for reading. I was so inspired by The Glass Bead Game that I wanted to write about it, and then so much came out. I'm glad that my story made sense; I was worried I had turned too much inward for anyone to care. Your story about Grant is beautiful. I haven't read it, but I need to now. I'm struck by his ability to rise above the hatred which is so passionately stoked when we want young men to go into war, and to offer his enemy and his side the respect a wounded soldier deserves. And yes, I think that Burns was spot on. Warfare and battle is an experience I still struggle to fully grasp. I was never shot at and didn't have a weapon to fire in anger. But I recognize how many of my friends were defined by what the experience of inhumanity brought out in them. Some were broken, some were temporarily disturbed but returned, and some were improved because of those experiences.
I think if I keep thinking about it I may lose the thread (and myself in it). All that to say, thank you for commenting. It really means the world to me. And I have a new book to read!
Oh, I can’t recommend “Grant” highly enough. It is literally a page-turner. Long, but so worth it. Next time I’m in NYC, I’m going to his tomb to pay respects. He’s right up there with Lincoln for saving the Union. And his presidency was so interesting. If Reconstruction did any good at all, it was largely due to his leadership.
My (Vietnam veteran) father told me that if soldiers had any say, we’d never go to war again. It’s the ignorant politicians who rattle sabers and happily send young men (esp poor ones) into battle. Did you know that wealthy Northerners could literally buy out of serving in the Civil War? That didn’t surprise me at all.
I especially enjoyed the section on Stephen King's advice to break out of the grip of polite society. This piece is a heavy-weight, with a lot of ballast for stabilizing the soul. And your ending is exquisite.
Thank you Rick. Stephen King is a powerhouse of advice, even as I choose not to read his stories. The consequences of choosing to be an outsider are weighing on me lately. But so is the desire to be honest and create the kind of work and art that can only be created from brutal honesty and a little bit of distance
You chose some powerful works of literature, and an equally powerful image in the monument to John Paul Jones. I recognize that desire to conquer self, to serve, and to overcome in you. My father was career Army. But I am saddened because I think you are missing the mark still.
I have not read "The Glass Bead." I will have to, because the character of Father___ (I don't remember his name, and if I go back to look, this post will disappear. Bitter experience.) sounds like he has hit the mark. He is courageous for the right reasons. He is not self-seeking or self-aggrandizing. But I am merely guessing from what you have written.
There is one single man who can be your model, who can lead you to places you have not fully envisioned, and who Fr ___ followed.
In our culture, living truthfully means seeing the world as an outsider. Living truthfully means having the courage not to fit in. So too does writing truthfully. Following that one man will mean the world will see you as an outsider. Not everyone. But many.
Ann, Thank you for reading and for your service as a military child. I had my son shortly before leaving the Navy and my daughter after I had already left, but I have many friends who've had their children in a dozen schools, who have missed birthdays and holidays and first dates. It's a hard life for a child, and an equally hard life as a parent.
I recommend The Glass Bead Game. Hesse won the Nobel prize for it. It was slow, thoughtful, methodical, and poignant. It is not a quick read, but I admire Hesse and this book is truly his best work. Father Jacobus is not the main character of the book though, more of the wise old sage. The main character is a part of an order devoted to logic and intellect over spirit.
I'm grateful that you offer Jesus as that man who should be our model. I struggled internally writing this with how much of my own relation to the religion founded on his teachings to share here. And that is born out of a struggle to truly understand my relationship to that religion. I am inspired by the mystics of past, which is what led me to Meister Eckhart and Rumi (I know he was a Sufi not a Christian, but he was a mystic) among others. But I have yet to understand how to believe as church commonly explains believing nowadays. It's a weakness and a strength. I struggle with it everyday, as I search and yearn for my own definition of the life I want to live. It's probably a theme and a question I'll return to in my writing, as I do in meditation and reading.
Yes, Christians are frequently not good role models. I relate to GK Chesterton's quote: Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has not been tried. Gandhi has been reported to have said much the same thing.
Great reflection Latham! What a beautiful scene to open up with. Your drawing was such an apt addition too. I think physical monuments often do serve as a guidepost as we're growing up, but when we start to think and question things deeply, they are bronze pieces that can't answer all our biggest questions.
This was one of my favorite parts, "Life isn’t a series of great moments in a montage. Teacher after teacher reminds us that life happens in the small moments. And to the best I can, I want to fill those moments with the best of myself." In terms of moments vs monuments, the moments have so much more longevity despite being more ephemeral.
Way to go Latham. Really enjoyed reading your guiding principles (your Monument as you put it). As you pointed out, it seems like we're on the same wavelength this week with quotes from "If" and sharing our rules for life. Thanks for also sharing the other extracts. I've only read Siddartha by Hesse, now I'm curious to check out The Glass Bead Game.
John, I loved the quote you shared from If too. It was so good. I hope we both remain on a similar wavelength, as I want to help more people be intentional about how they choose to live in the world.
As I mentioned to Ann, Glass Bead Game was definitely Hesse's masterpiece. But it's also slow at times and much more thoughtful. Know what you're diving into and you'll enjoy it. And you will get over the voice, it just takes a handful of pages before you stop being annoyed by it.
Thanks for pushing through your resistance and writing this, man. It's nuts to think you could have held back and we'd all be a little bit lessor for it, not to mention yourself.
Appreciate this list, Latham. As someone who has, in the space of maybe 5-8 years, had my core identity upended more than once, I sympathize with your monument metaphor. I'm increasingly aware of how I can only write such a list after major disruptions. Most of the big upheavals we can't see coming. And many of those forces scoff at whatever lists we've made. I always enjoyed teaching American naturalism -- Jack London, Stephen Crane, Ambrose Bierce. The upshot of that literary movement is that we're little more than a fleck of bran in the cosmic muffin.
On your subject of a good death, it's interesting to note that Tolstoy's Ivan Ilyich would have thought, until his terminal illness, that he had his monument scripted perfectly. What a powerful tale about how to avoid living the wrong life. It's counterpart might be Willa Cather's "Neighbour Rosicky," a story about a Czech farmer in Nebraska. I know of no other story that describes a good death better. And one thing I appreciate about it is that we understand that Rosicky's death isn't purely about his own serenity -- it's about how he shares that serenity with others, how dying well in fact requires him to turn away from himself toward his family.
Thank you for sharing all of this Josh. As I thought about your timeline, I realized that 6 years ago this month I left the Navy and disrupted my own life. It's a process which I'm still in the middle of, and I've intentionally made a lot of changes in those 6 years (switching careers, moving to CA and then to MT, starting and shutting down a company). While I may have made the decision to disrupt my life, I still empathize with your realization that we can't write these lists when we're in stasis. They only come from searching, from desperately trying to grasp for something.
I haven't read Neighbour Rosicky. I'm going to add that to my list.
Such a thought provoking exercise, Latham. Your monument collection here is as aspirational as it is humbling. And I love the paradoxical nature of these two ideals: live with iron-clad integrity, and also live as gauze blowing in the wind... you’re always invited to change when life shows you the way.
On that latter note: This line struck all the chords for me, “Writing truthfully means seeing the world as an outsider. Living truthfully means having the courage not to fit in.” If I were to pick one wound that refuses to heal, it’s this one in a landslide. This week, I’ve been particularly consumed and heart broken by it. Clearly I needed the Jungian synchronicity of reading your piece today. My spirit guides took note and sent me this message. Being an outsider isn’t a cross to bear or a flaw to fix. It’s a blessing to celebrate. I’m so grateful for the reminder. Thanks Latham!
I got shivers when I read your note. Being an outsider is a really tender wound. After I'd written this and scheduled it to be published, I was hit last night by a deep wave of sadness about how I don't fit in. About not knowing who I related to, all brought on by a silly birthday education (and maybe the fact that I turn 40 in a few weeks and I may be ignoring my small freak out).
I'm so grateful you shared and just as grateful that it struck a chord. May we work together on it.
Are you serious?! “Deep wave of sadness about how I don’t fit in” is precisely what I experienced this week. How wild, but kinda awe-inspiring in a strange way! (we’re not alone!!) Well, you fit into my misfit ship just fine, Latham! Welcome aboard! We got this!! And 40 is both a big deal and no deal at all, haha! At the ripe age of 43, my existential crises remain, but I’m smarter and kinder to myself (hmm mostly). It’s definitely ok to freak out a bit. The passage of time can be a cruel beast when we notice she’s breathing down our necks!! She’s much more tame when we walk side by side. (PS: thank you for your vulnerability here!! You’ve helped so much this week!)
What a generous essay. I imagine it was a meaningful process to put these elements and guideposts together; it's certainly meaningful to read. I just moved to Annapolis, so the image and metaphor of the tomb made me want to get over to the chapel to see for myself.
I'm struck by the empathy that runs through these aspirations, for yourself as well as others. In his excellent bio of U.S. Grant, Ron Chernow returns often to Grant's exemplary humanity. In a passage after the horrific fighting at Fort Donelson, Grant is surveying the frozen fields of battle. After giving a swig of brandy to two wounded men - a Union officer and a Confederate private - he says, "I suppose this work is part of the devil that is left in us all." Then he quotes a passage from Robert Burns, which apparently was not uncommon for him: "Man's inhumanity to man / make countless thousands mourn."
Thanks for sharing so much of yourself here.
Julie, I love that you moved to Annapolis. It's such a beautiful city, and I imagine even more so when you're not trapped behind the walls at the Naval Academy. You should go visit the chapel, see his crypt, see noon formation from Tecumseh, and even go see a parade on Friday. If you do any, or all of, that, I'd love to know what I got wrong in my descriptions from memory. It has been many years since I was there (I joined right after 9/11).
Thank you for reading. I was so inspired by The Glass Bead Game that I wanted to write about it, and then so much came out. I'm glad that my story made sense; I was worried I had turned too much inward for anyone to care. Your story about Grant is beautiful. I haven't read it, but I need to now. I'm struck by his ability to rise above the hatred which is so passionately stoked when we want young men to go into war, and to offer his enemy and his side the respect a wounded soldier deserves. And yes, I think that Burns was spot on. Warfare and battle is an experience I still struggle to fully grasp. I was never shot at and didn't have a weapon to fire in anger. But I recognize how many of my friends were defined by what the experience of inhumanity brought out in them. Some were broken, some were temporarily disturbed but returned, and some were improved because of those experiences.
I think if I keep thinking about it I may lose the thread (and myself in it). All that to say, thank you for commenting. It really means the world to me. And I have a new book to read!
Oh, I can’t recommend “Grant” highly enough. It is literally a page-turner. Long, but so worth it. Next time I’m in NYC, I’m going to his tomb to pay respects. He’s right up there with Lincoln for saving the Union. And his presidency was so interesting. If Reconstruction did any good at all, it was largely due to his leadership.
My (Vietnam veteran) father told me that if soldiers had any say, we’d never go to war again. It’s the ignorant politicians who rattle sabers and happily send young men (esp poor ones) into battle. Did you know that wealthy Northerners could literally buy out of serving in the Civil War? That didn’t surprise me at all.
I especially enjoyed the section on Stephen King's advice to break out of the grip of polite society. This piece is a heavy-weight, with a lot of ballast for stabilizing the soul. And your ending is exquisite.
Thank you Rick. Stephen King is a powerhouse of advice, even as I choose not to read his stories. The consequences of choosing to be an outsider are weighing on me lately. But so is the desire to be honest and create the kind of work and art that can only be created from brutal honesty and a little bit of distance
A moment-to-moment balancing act.
As a lifelong outsider, I’ve been entertaining the idea that *everyone* is an outsider. 😊
You chose some powerful works of literature, and an equally powerful image in the monument to John Paul Jones. I recognize that desire to conquer self, to serve, and to overcome in you. My father was career Army. But I am saddened because I think you are missing the mark still.
I have not read "The Glass Bead." I will have to, because the character of Father___ (I don't remember his name, and if I go back to look, this post will disappear. Bitter experience.) sounds like he has hit the mark. He is courageous for the right reasons. He is not self-seeking or self-aggrandizing. But I am merely guessing from what you have written.
There is one single man who can be your model, who can lead you to places you have not fully envisioned, and who Fr ___ followed.
In our culture, living truthfully means seeing the world as an outsider. Living truthfully means having the courage not to fit in. So too does writing truthfully. Following that one man will mean the world will see you as an outsider. Not everyone. But many.
Ann, Thank you for reading and for your service as a military child. I had my son shortly before leaving the Navy and my daughter after I had already left, but I have many friends who've had their children in a dozen schools, who have missed birthdays and holidays and first dates. It's a hard life for a child, and an equally hard life as a parent.
I recommend The Glass Bead Game. Hesse won the Nobel prize for it. It was slow, thoughtful, methodical, and poignant. It is not a quick read, but I admire Hesse and this book is truly his best work. Father Jacobus is not the main character of the book though, more of the wise old sage. The main character is a part of an order devoted to logic and intellect over spirit.
I'm grateful that you offer Jesus as that man who should be our model. I struggled internally writing this with how much of my own relation to the religion founded on his teachings to share here. And that is born out of a struggle to truly understand my relationship to that religion. I am inspired by the mystics of past, which is what led me to Meister Eckhart and Rumi (I know he was a Sufi not a Christian, but he was a mystic) among others. But I have yet to understand how to believe as church commonly explains believing nowadays. It's a weakness and a strength. I struggle with it everyday, as I search and yearn for my own definition of the life I want to live. It's probably a theme and a question I'll return to in my writing, as I do in meditation and reading.
Yes, Christians are frequently not good role models. I relate to GK Chesterton's quote: Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has not been tried. Gandhi has been reported to have said much the same thing.
P.S. I am taking a class in Mystical Theology now. I find it quite moving.
Great reflection Latham! What a beautiful scene to open up with. Your drawing was such an apt addition too. I think physical monuments often do serve as a guidepost as we're growing up, but when we start to think and question things deeply, they are bronze pieces that can't answer all our biggest questions.
This was one of my favorite parts, "Life isn’t a series of great moments in a montage. Teacher after teacher reminds us that life happens in the small moments. And to the best I can, I want to fill those moments with the best of myself." In terms of moments vs monuments, the moments have so much more longevity despite being more ephemeral.
Way to go Latham. Really enjoyed reading your guiding principles (your Monument as you put it). As you pointed out, it seems like we're on the same wavelength this week with quotes from "If" and sharing our rules for life. Thanks for also sharing the other extracts. I've only read Siddartha by Hesse, now I'm curious to check out The Glass Bead Game.
John, I loved the quote you shared from If too. It was so good. I hope we both remain on a similar wavelength, as I want to help more people be intentional about how they choose to live in the world.
As I mentioned to Ann, Glass Bead Game was definitely Hesse's masterpiece. But it's also slow at times and much more thoughtful. Know what you're diving into and you'll enjoy it. And you will get over the voice, it just takes a handful of pages before you stop being annoyed by it.
Thanks for pushing through your resistance and writing this, man. It's nuts to think you could have held back and we'd all be a little bit lessor for it, not to mention yourself.
Thank you Ryan. I appreciate you reading it and am grateful that it resonated.
Beautiful piece Latham. It’s so awesome to see your storytelling continually evolve each week.
I love how essay this is inherently an act of “being your own guide” as your principles are authentic and real to you — not copied.
Keep on keeping on :)