Fishing For Meaning in Walden Pond
Thoreau was an interesting dude. More importantly, he was interested in actually applying Emerson’s ideas. Emerson articulated the philosophy; Thoreau attempted to live it.
And there are a couple of Thoreau’s ideas I want to explore a bit today.
First, he famously suggested that we “fritter away our lives by detail.”
Go listen to the song Time by Pink Floyd sometime. It was partially inspired by Thoreau’s ideas around quiet desperation, and it captures this phenomenon beautifully.
Second, Thoreau believed that living simply was the ultimate act of civil disobedience.
That idea went on to influence people like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr., both of whom were deeply shaped by his writings. Whether one agrees with all of their ideas or not, it is difficult to deny the profound impact they had on the world.
These perspectives were central to Thoreau’s decision to live simply at Walden Pond.
What is sometimes overlooked, however, is that Thoreau also deeply mistrusted government taxation and how those resources would ultimately be used. Part of his experiment in simple living was an attempt to “opt out,” at least partially, from systems he did not fully trust or support.
And all of this got me thinking about the present moment we are living through now.
Let’s begin with this idea that we fritter away our lives on details.
What causes that?
And does it mean that “attention to detail” itself has become an overvalued virtue?
I think there are many reasons people fritter away their lives, but from my perspective, three of the primary drivers today are:
Consumerism
Digital technology
Acceptance
Now, I’m not saying these things are inherently bad. In theory, all three can enrich life and even save us time.
But does that usually happen?
Every object I own requires some amount of my time, attention, maintenance, thought, or energy. Am I actually pleased with those exchanges?
Every time I pick up a device and consume digital content, I am spending a portion of my life. Is it quality time?
And every time I simply “accept” circumstances, endure burdens, roll with the punches, or resign myself to situations I have never deeply examined, I am also spending my life.
Is it truly the life I want?
Or merely the life I drifted into?
A lot of my recent experiments with what I’ve been calling “One Hit Wonders” have really brought these questions into sharper focus for me.
But let’s shift now to Thoreau’s idea that simple living can function as civil disobedience.
What would the ultimate form of civil disobedience even look like today?
And is civil disobedience still truly “a thing,” or have most of us simply become highly compliant drones who no longer question much of anything?
I honestly don’t know.
But there are a few things that have been on my mind lately.
The first is relatively small, but I don’t think it’s insignificant.
Have you noticed that many stores no longer automatically provide receipts when you buy something?
Sometimes they don’t even ask.
Why?
To save paper?
To reduce costs?
Because people supposedly don’t want them?
Maybe.
But personally, I like knowing what things cost me.
I want the details.
I want to know whether I was charged correctly. I want to compare value between stores, products, and decisions.
I want awareness around how my money is being spent because, as I first encountered in the book Your Money or Your Life, money is ultimately a representation of life energy.
And lately, I’ve started realizing I may finally understand at least part of what bothered Thoreau so deeply about taxation as well.
In April, I paid a very large federal income tax bill.
Guess what I didn’t receive?
A receipt.
I saw the amount owed.
I paid it.
But what exactly did we purchase collectively?
What are we getting for the money?
Are we receiving good value?
Are resources being allocated wisely?
Are they improving the quality of life for ordinary people?
How are the schools?
The roads?
Hospitals?
Infrastructure?
Are universally important programs like Medicare and Social Security being managed sustainably and effectively?
Or is enormous collective wealth being directed toward things that fail to improve everyday life for most people?
And perhaps the larger question is:
How would we even know?
We don’t receive receipts.
Meanwhile, when I buy groceries at a self-checkout kiosk, I am asked by the register whether I want a receipt for my eggs, frozen pizza, and gum.
Yes, please!
Because details matter when trying to discern value.
And perhaps this is where Thoreau’s ideas become especially interesting to me.
The goal is not obsessive accounting.
Nor cynicism.
Nor retreat from society altogether.
The deeper question is:
How consciously are we living?
Because my interest, both personally and through this blog, is ultimately about radically designing a life we genuinely love.
In his own way, I think Thoreau was pursuing something similar.
My focus here is primarily on the individual person — the ordinary person, the plebeians like myself — because I believe meaningful change happens most powerfully at the individual level first, and then radiates outward collectively through the accumulation of individual choices and actions.
And although his language reflects the older gender conventions of his era, I still think Thoreau was fundamentally correct when he wrote:
“The only obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I think right. It is truly enough said that a corporation has no conscience; but a corporation of conscientious men is a corporation with a conscience.”
— Civil Disobedience