There is no up, without down. No black, without white, no good without bad. The one is the measure of the other. Those who have known only ease have no means to appreciate it.
Beautifully articulated Sam. The edges of clarity are constantly worn smooth and rendered invisible by our perceived need for convenience and this constant squirming against anything resembling discomfort. A soft-edged paradox perhaps. (And for the record, I'm now extra grateful to be able to sit here in a place surrounded by books and sunlight, whimsically tip-tapping away on a laptop without fear of getting torn apart by shrapnel)
Thank you, Will. I felt the same thing writing it, which is part of the practice. All the minor nonsense in my mind evaporates or is minimized in the face of worst case scenarios.
Sam, this last paragraph is pure gold! As I read it I had the thought that it is the awareness of the contrast between suffering and ease that gives rise to gratitude. All suffering with no context or hope leads to despair. All ease without the contrast of suffering leads to ingratitude. The path, then, would be to tread that line, or at least use it as our mental azimuth, to keep sight of both sides?
That is incredible well said. One foot in either would be the perfect balance. But I hope we learn to do this at scale in an "ease" environment because I don't think most Americans realize just how bad things can get, and how quickly.
Yeah, that's a great point. Its hard to maintain the balance when everything is immersed in ease. You and I know the value of hardship, but I'd say most Americans aren't willing to find out. And even for me, the "ease environment" can be like quicksand.
When this Marine served on active duty, there were still WWII Marines on active duty and many around Camp LeJuene that were retired. They were a different breed and many had been to Korea as well, not too mention some as senior NCO’s and senior Officers, in Vietnam. They had a a grace about them, rough and tumble for sure. We need them back, as we look at the Professional military today, who pander and make nice with politicians and make the young Marines and Sailors suffer, place them in situations with ROE’s that are unsustainable and then walk when it gets to too hard. At OCS in Quantico we carried two canteens of water on our web gear everywhere we went. They had to be full at all times. Whoa onto them that drank the water and the enlisted instructors found a light canteen! Bends and thrusts until the cows came home. Why have canteens full of water and not drink from them. Who knows! But it was a discipline that stays with me to this day. Maybe it came from gasoline drums with undrinkable drinking water or long patrols through fetid rice paddies. Who cares. As a side note after a grueling final test of the Endurance Course a little slice of Hell now no longer used, an officer candidate collapsed at the finish line. While the corpsman and some others pulled a water buffalo over to dump water on him, we were all directed to dump our canteens of water on the inert and close to dying from heat stroke candidate. His core temp we later learned was near 108….he lived….did the 100 canteens of water make a difference? Who the Hell knows, but a lesson learned. It was a defining moment. What strikes me most about your posts Sam is how grateful you are to be alive, and to transmit that joy to us through your writing. No easy days but who wants those anyway. We few we happy few….Semper Fi!
Indeed, water discipline was something that went the way of the Quail after I went through OCS in the mid 1970’s. Today the monitoring of watts as in calories and water as in hydration are closely managed. You will be interested to know, that the Officer Candidate that suffered a severe case of heat stroke, survived, and almost 2 years later joined my battalion in an adjacent rifle company. We became solid colleagues and I even attended his wedding! Mr. Brightman, all of this ought not take anything away from the Marines of the First Marine Division that assaulted across the beach and island of Peileliu in the fall of 1944. It was almost as bad as the 2nd Marine Division landing at Tarawa. There were over 6,000 dead and wounded Marines. The strategic nature of the campaign has been hotly debated, then at the time and onward through history. The theory was the advanced air field held importance to the retaking of the Philippines. Nor ought we be distracted from Sam’s great writing and wonderful posts and this one in particular. I may have been off point with my account, but I assure you in the field training very hard, canteen water when not restricted tasted better than beer.
Charles, there are some striking here. "we look at the Professional military today, who pander and make nice with politicians and make the young Marines and Sailors suffer, place them in situations with ROE’s that are unsustainable and then walk when it gets to too hard." This has been the bane of much of the GWOT era. It is a sin.
I appreciate your canteen story. I do not know for sure, but it seems as if many of the old era were not the best at putting their wisdom into words, but it was true wisdom they all possessed. We need more of that in the military today.
Water restriction, in sports and other training challenge settings, is the cause of a large number of preventible deaths. There are better safer ways to build character and resilience.
Since I and most likely majority of us did not experience the worst case scenario of “life and death” by a marine, what can teach us gratitude in a time and land of over abundance. I think that many of us heard parents command “eat all your … there are starving children in China …”. That usually didn’t create gratitude. What created gratitude for me were believable stories experienced by my grandparents and parents. Hearing my grandfather tell me stories from WW1 how their c-rations were only crackers that were hard as rocks and they pissed on them rather than use up the remaining clean water in their canteens. Or stories that my mother told me how they survived lack of food during WW2 by having a goat Malka that gave them milk. I remember (vaguely) a commercial for new cereal that the kids would not try it and would say “give to Mikey” to eat it first. I am still that Mikey! Thankfully.
This is great, Barry. I had not heard the story of pissing on crackers before... that is rough. And thank God for Malka. I appreciate your stories and perspective, your family has perspective most of us cannot dream of.
Wonderful, compelling, descriptive writing. Thank you. You are right and yet it’s not that simple because the last freedom an individual has is to choose one’s attitude. People who choose to count their troubles, the perceived injustices (driver’s rage), seeing something as good but could be better, and would have, could have, should have’s, are blind to gratitudes. When asked, they are unable to name things to be grateful for. They are incapable of seeing how one is blessed or feeling the fellowship and the warmth of community. Those who can forgive others for their transgressions, who see the efforts and intensions, not just the results, find much to be grateful for, feel blessed and never mind the hardships. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him feel grateful. The way forward is in one’s heart and head, and by example.
Choice is powerful. But from what I have seen it is difficult if not impossible to choose the grateful path when the individual lacks all perspective. You identified ancient wisdom in your response. That requires education. The goal is going to be giving that perspective to others so they too can make a different choice.
I can’t help but consider how the randomness of traumatic experiences in 1st world populations can end up as positive in the sense of having appreciation for a peaceful environment. It’s a roll of the dice; some resort to destructive behaviors while others spin it into resilience.
This is on point. I would add another dimension. There are those who turn it into resilience, those who destroy as you mentioned, and also those who simply evade. They choose not to look at it, dig into it, sit with it. This trinity is something Eric Hoffer wrote about over and over again. It is a great model
Your story makes my eyes water 💦. I pray at least four times a day for Peace. I'm sorry you suffered. 🙏🏽 Recently I listened to Tucker interview the guy who shot BinLaden. He goes to Mexico for psychedelics which he says saves lives. It was an interesting interview.
That is the core of it. And having endured what you have, you know this better than most. Thank you for the comment, and I'm grateful this resonated with you.
"I believe we need to suffer in order to know the gift that is life, for suffering is the gift of perspective."
Fair point, Sam. I believe that what we think and feel about A is not only about A, but also about how it compares with B and C etc etc. If there is no pain, pleasure is a meh baseline. If there is no threat of death, life is a static given. If no hunger, food is bland. I guess this is a good argument for a wide menu of experience.
Well framed, Baird. Comparatives are crucial. It is also stunning how quickly the lessons can fade after a while, however. Even with the mode of life I choose to live with its integrated challenges, I find myself slipping every day until I force these principles on myself. There is simply no replacement for actual life and death struggles — we're just not wired for ease. I have found the struggle is in itself of great worth.
A friend of mine always said, "Life is too short to drive boring cars; they always get you from A to B, they never leave you stranded anywhere, you never have to call a friend to bring a part so you can fix it on the side of the road."
He and I always drove old, "shitty" cars. Just two days ago my Montero broke down and began stalling out on my way to work -- *Thank God* I was almost there and was near an oasis of a few places with internet where I could make a call to work and let them know. Thank God I had a spare fuel pump in the trunk that I was planning on installing for over a year and never got around to it. When that didn't fix the issue, thank God the girl at the coffee shop whose lot I drifted into gave me a ride back home to get another part and get make sure me and my dogs both wouldn't be stranded.
The next morning I still didn't have a ride back to my truck; thank God my old boss, who despite being on vacation, arranged for her brother to pick me up on his way to work. When it became apparent that neither the MAF sensor or brake booster were the culprits of what was, with the new fuel pump installed, almost certainly a vacuum leak, an acquaintance from a different department where I used to work pulled in to see if he could help. Thank God his second set of eyes saw the obvious that I had overlooked a dozen times over: the EGR valve had become loose and was hanging there, missing a bolt.
Thank God when I went across the street to where I used to work, one of the maintenance guys happened to have a bolt that would fit in place of the one I was missing.
Yeah I was grateful to be back on the road, but these sorts of things make you grateful for so much more: that of all the places things could brake down, it happened in the best possible place; that in a world full of selfish people and the comfortably incompetent, there are still good people, some strangers, some friends, and some acquaintances, that are happy and eager to lend a hand.
No shit, that event renewed my gratitude for the place I live -- which had recently wore thin.
This should be its own essay... expand it a bit, and it will reach even deeper into how I believe humans lived for the majority of our tenure on this earth. The journey is all there ever is. Either love it or watch life pass us by.
There is no up, without down. No black, without white, no good without bad. The one is the measure of the other. Those who have known only ease have no means to appreciate it.
This is it entirely. It is as easy to forget as it is never to have known. It is a good fight.
Beautifully articulated Sam. The edges of clarity are constantly worn smooth and rendered invisible by our perceived need for convenience and this constant squirming against anything resembling discomfort. A soft-edged paradox perhaps. (And for the record, I'm now extra grateful to be able to sit here in a place surrounded by books and sunlight, whimsically tip-tapping away on a laptop without fear of getting torn apart by shrapnel)
Thank you, Will. I felt the same thing writing it, which is part of the practice. All the minor nonsense in my mind evaporates or is minimized in the face of worst case scenarios.
Sam, this last paragraph is pure gold! As I read it I had the thought that it is the awareness of the contrast between suffering and ease that gives rise to gratitude. All suffering with no context or hope leads to despair. All ease without the contrast of suffering leads to ingratitude. The path, then, would be to tread that line, or at least use it as our mental azimuth, to keep sight of both sides?
That is incredible well said. One foot in either would be the perfect balance. But I hope we learn to do this at scale in an "ease" environment because I don't think most Americans realize just how bad things can get, and how quickly.
Yeah, that's a great point. Its hard to maintain the balance when everything is immersed in ease. You and I know the value of hardship, but I'd say most Americans aren't willing to find out. And even for me, the "ease environment" can be like quicksand.
When this Marine served on active duty, there were still WWII Marines on active duty and many around Camp LeJuene that were retired. They were a different breed and many had been to Korea as well, not too mention some as senior NCO’s and senior Officers, in Vietnam. They had a a grace about them, rough and tumble for sure. We need them back, as we look at the Professional military today, who pander and make nice with politicians and make the young Marines and Sailors suffer, place them in situations with ROE’s that are unsustainable and then walk when it gets to too hard. At OCS in Quantico we carried two canteens of water on our web gear everywhere we went. They had to be full at all times. Whoa onto them that drank the water and the enlisted instructors found a light canteen! Bends and thrusts until the cows came home. Why have canteens full of water and not drink from them. Who knows! But it was a discipline that stays with me to this day. Maybe it came from gasoline drums with undrinkable drinking water or long patrols through fetid rice paddies. Who cares. As a side note after a grueling final test of the Endurance Course a little slice of Hell now no longer used, an officer candidate collapsed at the finish line. While the corpsman and some others pulled a water buffalo over to dump water on him, we were all directed to dump our canteens of water on the inert and close to dying from heat stroke candidate. His core temp we later learned was near 108….he lived….did the 100 canteens of water make a difference? Who the Hell knows, but a lesson learned. It was a defining moment. What strikes me most about your posts Sam is how grateful you are to be alive, and to transmit that joy to us through your writing. No easy days but who wants those anyway. We few we happy few….Semper Fi!
Indeed, water discipline was something that went the way of the Quail after I went through OCS in the mid 1970’s. Today the monitoring of watts as in calories and water as in hydration are closely managed. You will be interested to know, that the Officer Candidate that suffered a severe case of heat stroke, survived, and almost 2 years later joined my battalion in an adjacent rifle company. We became solid colleagues and I even attended his wedding! Mr. Brightman, all of this ought not take anything away from the Marines of the First Marine Division that assaulted across the beach and island of Peileliu in the fall of 1944. It was almost as bad as the 2nd Marine Division landing at Tarawa. There were over 6,000 dead and wounded Marines. The strategic nature of the campaign has been hotly debated, then at the time and onward through history. The theory was the advanced air field held importance to the retaking of the Philippines. Nor ought we be distracted from Sam’s great writing and wonderful posts and this one in particular. I may have been off point with my account, but I assure you in the field training very hard, canteen water when not restricted tasted better than beer.
Charles, there are some striking here. "we look at the Professional military today, who pander and make nice with politicians and make the young Marines and Sailors suffer, place them in situations with ROE’s that are unsustainable and then walk when it gets to too hard." This has been the bane of much of the GWOT era. It is a sin.
I appreciate your canteen story. I do not know for sure, but it seems as if many of the old era were not the best at putting their wisdom into words, but it was true wisdom they all possessed. We need more of that in the military today.
Thank you as always for the thoughts.
Water restriction, in sports and other training challenge settings, is the cause of a large number of preventible deaths. There are better safer ways to build character and resilience.
Since I and most likely majority of us did not experience the worst case scenario of “life and death” by a marine, what can teach us gratitude in a time and land of over abundance. I think that many of us heard parents command “eat all your … there are starving children in China …”. That usually didn’t create gratitude. What created gratitude for me were believable stories experienced by my grandparents and parents. Hearing my grandfather tell me stories from WW1 how their c-rations were only crackers that were hard as rocks and they pissed on them rather than use up the remaining clean water in their canteens. Or stories that my mother told me how they survived lack of food during WW2 by having a goat Malka that gave them milk. I remember (vaguely) a commercial for new cereal that the kids would not try it and would say “give to Mikey” to eat it first. I am still that Mikey! Thankfully.
This is great, Barry. I had not heard the story of pissing on crackers before... that is rough. And thank God for Malka. I appreciate your stories and perspective, your family has perspective most of us cannot dream of.
Wonderful, compelling, descriptive writing. Thank you. You are right and yet it’s not that simple because the last freedom an individual has is to choose one’s attitude. People who choose to count their troubles, the perceived injustices (driver’s rage), seeing something as good but could be better, and would have, could have, should have’s, are blind to gratitudes. When asked, they are unable to name things to be grateful for. They are incapable of seeing how one is blessed or feeling the fellowship and the warmth of community. Those who can forgive others for their transgressions, who see the efforts and intensions, not just the results, find much to be grateful for, feel blessed and never mind the hardships. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him feel grateful. The way forward is in one’s heart and head, and by example.
Choice is powerful. But from what I have seen it is difficult if not impossible to choose the grateful path when the individual lacks all perspective. You identified ancient wisdom in your response. That requires education. The goal is going to be giving that perspective to others so they too can make a different choice.
and there lies the importance of faith communities.
It's interesting as I'm seeing a trend right now of looking at how bad it can be to see how good we have it. And it's true!
I haven’t seen this trend operative at scale, but if it is, I’m here for it. It works well for everyone I know who practices it.
It’s too hard to have it work at scale!
I can’t help but consider how the randomness of traumatic experiences in 1st world populations can end up as positive in the sense of having appreciation for a peaceful environment. It’s a roll of the dice; some resort to destructive behaviors while others spin it into resilience.
This is on point. I would add another dimension. There are those who turn it into resilience, those who destroy as you mentioned, and also those who simply evade. They choose not to look at it, dig into it, sit with it. This trinity is something Eric Hoffer wrote about over and over again. It is a great model
Your story makes my eyes water 💦. I pray at least four times a day for Peace. I'm sorry you suffered. 🙏🏽 Recently I listened to Tucker interview the guy who shot BinLaden. He goes to Mexico for psychedelics which he says saves lives. It was an interesting interview.
Excellent. It’s hard to know how easy and comfy we have it—until we no longer do…
That is the core of it. And having endured what you have, you know this better than most. Thank you for the comment, and I'm grateful this resonated with you.
"I believe we need to suffer in order to know the gift that is life, for suffering is the gift of perspective."
Fair point, Sam. I believe that what we think and feel about A is not only about A, but also about how it compares with B and C etc etc. If there is no pain, pleasure is a meh baseline. If there is no threat of death, life is a static given. If no hunger, food is bland. I guess this is a good argument for a wide menu of experience.
Thanks for your unique perspective and writing.
Well framed, Baird. Comparatives are crucial. It is also stunning how quickly the lessons can fade after a while, however. Even with the mode of life I choose to live with its integrated challenges, I find myself slipping every day until I force these principles on myself. There is simply no replacement for actual life and death struggles — we're just not wired for ease. I have found the struggle is in itself of great worth.
A friend of mine always said, "Life is too short to drive boring cars; they always get you from A to B, they never leave you stranded anywhere, you never have to call a friend to bring a part so you can fix it on the side of the road."
He and I always drove old, "shitty" cars. Just two days ago my Montero broke down and began stalling out on my way to work -- *Thank God* I was almost there and was near an oasis of a few places with internet where I could make a call to work and let them know. Thank God I had a spare fuel pump in the trunk that I was planning on installing for over a year and never got around to it. When that didn't fix the issue, thank God the girl at the coffee shop whose lot I drifted into gave me a ride back home to get another part and get make sure me and my dogs both wouldn't be stranded.
The next morning I still didn't have a ride back to my truck; thank God my old boss, who despite being on vacation, arranged for her brother to pick me up on his way to work. When it became apparent that neither the MAF sensor or brake booster were the culprits of what was, with the new fuel pump installed, almost certainly a vacuum leak, an acquaintance from a different department where I used to work pulled in to see if he could help. Thank God his second set of eyes saw the obvious that I had overlooked a dozen times over: the EGR valve had become loose and was hanging there, missing a bolt.
Thank God when I went across the street to where I used to work, one of the maintenance guys happened to have a bolt that would fit in place of the one I was missing.
Yeah I was grateful to be back on the road, but these sorts of things make you grateful for so much more: that of all the places things could brake down, it happened in the best possible place; that in a world full of selfish people and the comfortably incompetent, there are still good people, some strangers, some friends, and some acquaintances, that are happy and eager to lend a hand.
No shit, that event renewed my gratitude for the place I live -- which had recently wore thin.
This should be its own essay... expand it a bit, and it will reach even deeper into how I believe humans lived for the majority of our tenure on this earth. The journey is all there ever is. Either love it or watch life pass us by.
Gratitude for all we see, use “A.I.” Wisely.. Protect the World and Humanity. Peacefully.