The movie Saving Private Ryan opens and closes with a scene set in the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial overlooking Omaha Beach. In front of Captain John Miller’s grave marker (the man played by Tom Hanks in the movie), Ryan as an old man asks his wife to tell him he’s “led a good life.” This especially poignant scene, where he reflects on the sacrifice of all the soldiers buried there, and in particular those who died getting to him to send him home, sets the stage for this post. It’s obvious that life for him has been good; he’s seems to be in good health, he is surrounded by a loving family (his wife, several children and grandchildren), and he’s apparently prosperous enough that his extended family can travel overseas. But he’s asking something much more profound, and it has to do with whether the life he has led since World War II has adequately honored, or even justified, the sacrifice of Captain Miller and the others now buried in France, overlooking Omaha beach.
Examining one’s life has an additional and very important component, which may in fact pose a greater challenge than determining what type of person to be. The origins of this part also date back to the early Greek philosophers; Socrates, Plato and Aristotle all spoke of “the good life” from various perspectives. Each presented a slightly different nuance in the way they addressed the topic. I won’t go into how they defined a good life at this time, but suffice to say that each philosopher placed a great deal of importance to its consideration.
How we lead our lives is different than what type of person we envision ourselves to be, although there is considerable overlap between the two. And there has been a great deal written since the Greeks first posited a “Good Life,” so I’m not going to attempt to add anything here, except to talk about what it means to me.
First of all, I would differentiate between a “Good Life” and a “good life” (with upper and lower case). A Good Life carries with it more of an idealistic, society-facing connotation than a good life, which I view as a more personally-facing perspective. Everyone wants a good life, while not necessarily a Good Life. By that I mean people would like to have a life free of chronic sickness, pain or tragedy, where they are able to adequately care for themselves and loved ones (a good life). A Good Life to me means something more: a significant contribution to others or to society in general; this takes considerable work. Not everyone is willing, able, or even inclined to think through what a Good Life might mean, or to put the work into its achievement.
What are some of the things that might go into a Good Life? I think we could safely say that examples of people who have lived a Good Life would include Clara Barton, Florence Nightingale, Ignaz Semmelweis, Louis Pasteur and on and on; these are people who worked in obscurity most of their lifetimes, but what they accomplished has saved countless lives and prevented much suffering since. But I don’t think it’s necessary nor even realistic that we limit our description of the Good Life to these kinds of iconic figures; there are lots of people who have risen above themselves during their life to do good works and help other people, and maybe only in small ways. So while some may achieve posthumous greatness, in order for the Good Life to be meaningful as a concept, it has to be more grounded in reality or in the mundane of day-to-day living.
I think what’s emerging, as I think about this, is not so much that we actually achieve anything tangible, but that we create an image of a Good Life and try to work toward that. In that context it’s much like Plato’s “Form of the Good.” He stated that, while it may be hard to describe or define what a specific Form was (in this case, the Form of the Good), once it is present it’s possible to recognize all other Forms of the Good from that example. That’s not quite right in my context, but it’s close. What I mean is that, as you live your life, (hopefully a good life), you always keep in mind possibilities of something greater, or even more noble. So in a very mundane example, you try to put yourself in other peoples’ shoes. When driving, you not only drive defensively, but you look for ways to help other people. Let them merge in front of you, maybe. Or move over so they can pass. It’s actually little things, but they add up.
We may never rise to the level of Captain Miller (who literally gave his life so another could live), and hopefully it would not come to that for most of us. But we can, and should, aspire to become better. Not perfect; just better.
About BigBill
Stats: Married male boomer.
Hobbies: Hiking, woodworking, reading, philosophy, good conversation.
An examined life: The Good Life
The movie Saving Private Ryan opens and closes with a scene set in the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial overlooking Omaha Beach. In front of Captain John Miller’s grave marker (the man played by Tom Hanks in the movie), Ryan as an old man asks his wife to tell him he’s “led a good life.” This especially poignant scene, where he reflects on the sacrifice of all the soldiers buried there, and in particular those who died getting to him to send him home, sets the stage for this post. It’s obvious that life for him has been good; he’s seems to be in good health, he is surrounded by a loving family (his wife, several children and grandchildren), and he’s apparently prosperous enough that his extended family can travel overseas. But he’s asking something much more profound, and it has to do with whether the life he has led since World War II has adequately honored, or even justified, the sacrifice of Captain Miller and the others now buried in France, overlooking Omaha beach.
Examining one’s life has an additional and very important component, which may in fact pose a greater challenge than determining what type of person to be. The origins of this part also date back to the early Greek philosophers; Socrates, Plato and Aristotle all spoke of “the good life” from various perspectives. Each presented a slightly different nuance in the way they addressed the topic. I won’t go into how they defined a good life at this time, but suffice to say that each philosopher placed a great deal of importance to its consideration.
How we lead our lives is different than what type of person we envision ourselves to be, although there is considerable overlap between the two. And there has been a great deal written since the Greeks first posited a “Good Life,” so I’m not going to attempt to add anything here, except to talk about what it means to me.
First of all, I would differentiate between a “Good Life” and a “good life” (with upper and lower case). A Good Life carries with it more of an idealistic, society-facing connotation than a good life, which I view as a more personally-facing perspective. Everyone wants a good life, while not necessarily a Good Life. By that I mean people would like to have a life free of chronic sickness, pain or tragedy, where they are able to adequately care for themselves and loved ones (a good life). A Good Life to me means something more: a significant contribution to others or to society in general; this takes considerable work. Not everyone is willing, able, or even inclined to think through what a Good Life might mean, or to put the work into its achievement.
What are some of the things that might go into a Good Life? I think we could safely say that examples of people who have lived a Good Life would include Clara Barton, Florence Nightingale, Ignaz Semmelweis, Louis Pasteur and on and on; these are people who worked in obscurity most of their lifetimes, but what they accomplished has saved countless lives and prevented much suffering since. But I don’t think it’s necessary nor even realistic that we limit our description of the Good Life to these kinds of iconic figures; there are lots of people who have risen above themselves during their life to do good works and help other people, and maybe only in small ways. So while some may achieve posthumous greatness, in order for the Good Life to be meaningful as a concept, it has to be more grounded in reality or in the mundane of day-to-day living.
I think what’s emerging, as I think about this, is not so much that we actually achieve anything tangible, but that we create an image of a Good Life and try to work toward that. In that context it’s much like Plato’s “Form of the Good.” He stated that, while it may be hard to describe or define what a specific Form was (in this case, the Form of the Good), once it is present it’s possible to recognize all other Forms of the Good from that example. That’s not quite right in my context, but it’s close. What I mean is that, as you live your life, (hopefully a good life), you always keep in mind possibilities of something greater, or even more noble. So in a very mundane example, you try to put yourself in other peoples’ shoes. When driving, you not only drive defensively, but you look for ways to help other people. Let them merge in front of you, maybe. Or move over so they can pass. It’s actually little things, but they add up.
We may never rise to the level of Captain Miller (who literally gave his life so another could live), and hopefully it would not come to that for most of us. But we can, and should, aspire to become better. Not perfect; just better.
About BigBill
Stats: Married male boomer. Hobbies: Hiking, woodworking, reading, philosophy, good conversation.