P'shaw (she/they) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pshaw_raven) wrote2020-03-28 09:43 am
pshaw_raven) wrote2020-03-28 09:43 am
Entry tags:
Thoughts in Solitude
What Walden can tell us about social distancing and focusing on life’s essentials. A long-ish read and one you need not have read Walden to appreciate.
I read this book in high school, where it was required reading in honors English. It had such an incredible impact on me that I read it twice - as soon as I finished I just started again. I wrote my end of term paper on it. I have always had a copy around. Re-reading it now is like revisiting a familiar stream of conversation with an old friend. It may be a bit awkward at first but you quickly pick up about where you left off. And it was always at the back of my mind going through life. I graduated college, got jobs, got married the first time, and did other things we're all expected to do.
But I'd find myself sitting around in the evening, after my first husband had spent hours grousing about how my merit increase in pay "wasn't enough," and how they expected too much of me, I should be a manager, and other complaints that always seemed to boil down to wanting me to make a five-figure income while staying at home to see to his needs. I finally started thinking, I could be living in a cabin in the woods somewhere. I hate this. This isn't even remotely close to the kind of life I imagined for myself. Not that the details matter but I managed to shift into exactly that kind of life, a move for which I'm grateful every day. "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." is not a direct quote from Thoreau but a summation of a passage in Walden and accurate or not, it served me well as a touchstone.
I guess it comes as no surprise that the other major author whose advice I took very directly to heart is Thomas Merton.
Maybe it's because I've had plenty of time to acclimate to a very rural and quiet life, and maybe it's also because, left on my own, I develop rather monk-ish habits. (I made a pun, hrrrhrrhrhrrr) I'm finding the mandated staying at home, the "social distancing," and the slower, quieter direction life is taking even for someone who previously already lived a fairly slow and quiet life are not hard to adapt to. I understand others may have been used to a more active life, or have a naturally greater need for stimulation and I'm not insensitive to their plight.
My only anxiety at the moment is that I will need to do some grocery shopping next week. I made a good plan and stocked us up well without falling into hoarding behavior - I planned for a certain span of time, decided what we needed for that time, and bought only that. The only thing I'm beginning to feel the lack of is fresh produce. So I'll be venturing forth to restock that. I have seed trays that are doing decently, all those broccoli and arugula plants, and another garden bed that should be ready for planting in another week or so. Rather than waiting on compost to decay, I helped things along by dumping compost starter right into the ground, along with organic blood meal, bone meal, and the rest of a bottle of fish emulsion. It doesn't smell awesome, but there's the root end of a napa cabbage I disposed of last week that already has enough leaves growing back to make a meal of.
I also don't want to sound like I'm flexing on people here. I don't mean to sound as if I'm lording it over anyone else. I understand that I'm in a very privileged position. A pandemic isn't fun and people are suffering. But I feel a little hopeful that there will be lessons learned in all this. Or ... people will be people and learn nothing. We'll find out.
I read this book in high school, where it was required reading in honors English. It had such an incredible impact on me that I read it twice - as soon as I finished I just started again. I wrote my end of term paper on it. I have always had a copy around. Re-reading it now is like revisiting a familiar stream of conversation with an old friend. It may be a bit awkward at first but you quickly pick up about where you left off. And it was always at the back of my mind going through life. I graduated college, got jobs, got married the first time, and did other things we're all expected to do.
But I'd find myself sitting around in the evening, after my first husband had spent hours grousing about how my merit increase in pay "wasn't enough," and how they expected too much of me, I should be a manager, and other complaints that always seemed to boil down to wanting me to make a five-figure income while staying at home to see to his needs. I finally started thinking, I could be living in a cabin in the woods somewhere. I hate this. This isn't even remotely close to the kind of life I imagined for myself. Not that the details matter but I managed to shift into exactly that kind of life, a move for which I'm grateful every day. "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." is not a direct quote from Thoreau but a summation of a passage in Walden and accurate or not, it served me well as a touchstone.
I guess it comes as no surprise that the other major author whose advice I took very directly to heart is Thomas Merton.
Maybe it's because I've had plenty of time to acclimate to a very rural and quiet life, and maybe it's also because, left on my own, I develop rather monk-ish habits. (I made a pun, hrrrhrrhrhrrr) I'm finding the mandated staying at home, the "social distancing," and the slower, quieter direction life is taking even for someone who previously already lived a fairly slow and quiet life are not hard to adapt to. I understand others may have been used to a more active life, or have a naturally greater need for stimulation and I'm not insensitive to their plight.
My only anxiety at the moment is that I will need to do some grocery shopping next week. I made a good plan and stocked us up well without falling into hoarding behavior - I planned for a certain span of time, decided what we needed for that time, and bought only that. The only thing I'm beginning to feel the lack of is fresh produce. So I'll be venturing forth to restock that. I have seed trays that are doing decently, all those broccoli and arugula plants, and another garden bed that should be ready for planting in another week or so. Rather than waiting on compost to decay, I helped things along by dumping compost starter right into the ground, along with organic blood meal, bone meal, and the rest of a bottle of fish emulsion. It doesn't smell awesome, but there's the root end of a napa cabbage I disposed of last week that already has enough leaves growing back to make a meal of.
I also don't want to sound like I'm flexing on people here. I don't mean to sound as if I'm lording it over anyone else. I understand that I'm in a very privileged position. A pandemic isn't fun and people are suffering. But I feel a little hopeful that there will be lessons learned in all this. Or ... people will be people and learn nothing. We'll find out.