If you are out there pursuing your goals, overcoming obstacles, and blasting through barriers, there will be times when you take on more than you can handle. You will misjudge situations and, as the saying goes, will “bite off more than you can chew.” This is part of the growth process. This applies both professionally and personally. Don’t let the opinions of others diminish your focus. Deal with the situation as best you can, and chalk it up to life.
The most comprehensive treatise on Roman medicine that has survived is Celsus’s De Medicina (On Medicine), a work that fills eight carefully composed books written in a simple and elegant style. His full name was Aulus Cornelius Celsus, and appears to have flourished during the emperorship of Tiberius (A.D. 14—37). But beyond these bare bones we know almost nothing about the man or his background. Scholars have established that his manual was originally part of a larger, Pliny-esque encyclopedia that included books on military science, agriculture, law, and rhetoric, among other topics; in this respect he is very much like the biographer Cornelius Nepos, whose surviving work is but a fraction of a larger corpus.
There are no “forgotten wars.” We may choose to talk about them, to write about them, or to learn from them. Or we may not. It is a question of what value we place on the lessons. Some eras, forged in strife and hardship, embrace history’s lessons, and consume narratives of past conflict with an eager inquisitiveness; other epochs, softened by luxury and lassitude, are largely immune to the lessons of the past. In the end, it is always a matter of choice.
In the past I’ve resisted the idea of making lists of recommended books. One gets the sense that the instant something is committed to a list, many will assume that the list is exclusive, and that other options should not be considered. There is also a personal feeling of distaste I have towards the “listicle” writing format: it seems trite, simplistic, and geared towards the lowest attention span reader.
The newspapers and magazines of previous eras provide us a window on the age. One gets a sense of the mood and odor of the times. Personal accounts are better still, especially when the writer has endured a direful or traumatic experience.
When you are in a position of leadership or responsibility, you must carry out your duties. The mission comes first: you don’t have a choice. Too many people today want the benefits of being “in charge,” without being mindful of the responsibilities. Leadership carries many obligations, and some of them are not pleasant. But they must be done. Life is not about having “fun,” enjoying frivolities, and basking in vanity. In 2020, we saw many examples of mayors and governors dodging their fundamental obligation to keep public order and discipline. We discuss one such example, and seek wider lessons.
The mystic Yunus Ibn Yusuf Ibn Musaed was born around 1132 into the Mukharik family, of the tribe of Shaiban (بنو شيبان). The subdivisions of this tribe occupied an area called the Jazira, a region covering what is now eastern Syria and upper Mesopotamia. He would later found an order of dervishes that came to be called, according to his biographer Ibn Khallikan, the Yunusiya.
As 2020 staggers to a close, it is time to review the year’s eleven most viewed essays and podcasts here at Fortress of the Mind. The misery of the year’s events was in some way mitigated by its productivity in writing. I list them below, in descending order. Now would be a good opportunity to catch up on any that you may have missed, or to visit a favorite once again. Here is the list:
For the student of politics and public affairs, there are few fields so richly rewarding as study of historical figures. We find that the same circumstances, the same problems, and the same challenges present themselves again and again; and the solutions crafted in one era, even if not fully applicable to another, at least provide us some rudimentary guidance.
In 1902 Jack London resolved to travel seven thousand miles from California to England. His stated purpose was to lose himself in the docks and slums of London’s squalid East End, and see what he might learn from the experience. One might reasonably ask why he would do this, when numerous examples of urban misery could be observed in the cities of his own country, such as New York, Chicago, San Francisco, or any of a dozen others. But the idea was actually presented to him by his British publisher after the release of London’s first book in England.
