I remember reading bits and pieces of Thoreau's Walden in a literature class in high school. I do not remember any of it sticking to me at that time. I wonder if the circumstances of being assigned to read something take something away from the total comprehension of what is assigned. Or maybe it's just bad teaching. Or an impossible assignment for the teacher.
Anyway, I've found an annotated version of Walden online, and I've been sneaking away a few guilty moments to read it while I am at work. I have to do something to break up the monotony. Reading online is nice in a way, because I can copy and paste lines that really move me, for later reference.
I always knew I was different, but wow, I think, after reading most of the first chapter, that I am a kindred spirit of Thoreau. Why just this morning I was chiding my oldest son for using the electric heater in his room, when he could just pile on another blanket and he would be fine! Or he could just get used to being cold. Either way I think he would survive.
And fashion! My sense of fashion stalled somewhere in the early nineties, when there were some sensible things going on. According to Thoreau, as long as it's functional, it's okay. I can certainly live with that! I just have to stop looking in the mirror...
Anyway, I have discovered that I am into what may be best described as deep simple living. And I had a dream to underscore that last night. Somehow, I had devised a plan where I would be dropped off in a small town where I used to live, and I would meet a bus to go to work. Unfortunately, I had not studied the schedule, so I became obsessed with whether or not I knew when the bus would be there. The bus did come, eventually, but I missed it, just because I was so occupied in finding out exactly when it was to arrive. So I ended up sleeping on a bench in the street, feeling so despondent I jumped up and down on the pavement, trying to wake myself from the dream.
The message: (and Jesus has said this I think....) don't sweat the details.