1.15.12 A Time to Every Season

Today it was cold as hell. I did take my customary walk, but it was not especially joyful and the landscape was painted in the bleak hues of gun-metal gray. It may have been best to just skip the walk and hunker down in my cozy hobbit hole and ponder the changing seasons of the earth and of life. But I'm glad I gave my limbs some exercise, and am now snug and warm and can ponder what I please.

It occurs to me that this new home of mine is, in many respects, my version of Thoreau's Walden Pond experience, or as close to it as I'll probably ever get.
Strangely enough, this notion had not yet occurred to me at the time I hung this picture on the wall just inside the entrance to our apartment. Yet now it seems quite relevant and I feel that it was the perfect choice. I bought the poster years ago during a visit to the actual Walden Pond, in the small gift shop they have there. I had it framed and hung it in our bedroom, where it hung for years, and where I had always appreciated the sense of tranquility it seemed to impart to the room. It was a reminder of all those sensible observations that Henry left for us to consider, as we choose how best to live our lives. I plan to re-read Walden soon, though perhaps not until spring, when I can do while sitting on the banks of the Mississippi.

Here, for example, are some of the gems that Henry left us, which eloquently attest to just how eloquent one can be, given a sufficient degree of solitude:

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone."

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion."

"Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things."

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

"Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!"

And, of course, perhaps the most famous:

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

Here on Nicollet Island, I too wish to live simply, stepping to the music which I alone hear. I too want to discover how many things I can afford to let alone. And I too don't want to reach the end of my life only to discover that I had not lived. I hope to live not a quiet life of desperation, but a quiet life of contemplation, self-discovery, creativity and contentment. Thoreau is an apt inspiration and companion for me here and now, as I front the essential facts of life and see what I can learn from them. If I'm fortunate, maybe I'll learn at least as much as Henry did:

"I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.

Life flows on, in and around us--showing us all we need to know if we but stop to observe and appreciate its simplicity, and let it take us in the direction of our dreams.

D.E.S.