Focus: Dad

Going to India is always a thrill for me. When I was younger, the joy probably sprouted mostly from sightseeing and getting exotic trinkets here and there. As I got older, the value began to principally spring from getting to know the family better, as most all of my dad's family lives there. Now, I'd say, the best parts of coming to India are a combination of family time as well as gaining more knowledge about my roots.

This time around, one of the most memorable parts of the trip was actually the five hour car ride from Delhi to Punjab. We left at four in the morning and I slept most of the way there. My dad went so far as to ask our hotel if we could borrow a pillow and blanket so I would be as comfortable as possible during what has, historically, always been the most dreaded car ride of the India trip. Needless to say, I was quite comfortable. As the sun started to rise, my eyes fluttered open every now and again; my eyes were drawn to my father's face, which, I haven't really been able to examine in a long while. When you live with someone, you never notice the subtle changes in their appearance. Even when he comes to visit me at college, the moments are so packed with my endless descriptions of teachers, friends, course material, complaints about the dining hall, etc., that we never get to truly embrace the simplicity of being in each others' presence. So when my eyes fluttered open, I noticed the thin lines around my dad's eyes which had not been there before.

It was strange to finally see the physical manifestations of his age.

My whole life, my dad's had the inquisitive nature of a small child, the energy of an enthused twenty-something, and the wisdom of an old man.

Everpresent Conundrums.

Every battle that takes place in my mind always concludes with the same ceasefire: Balance. Balance solves every conundrum, it is the remedy for all uneasiness and is the goal for anyone on a mission toward holistic self-improvement. My most recent quandary deals with the fact that peace is attained through a genuine acceptance of one's place in life. One's situation must fully be embraced and accepted for the purest calm to reign in the mind. However, having goals, in my opinion, is the only real thing that makes life meaningful; having an objective to strive for inherently means that you cannot simply accept the way things are - instead, you must have some inner drive not to settle for the way things are but to keep pacing towards progress. Both are necessary, hence the contradiction I'm struggling with which inevitably should result in balance.

Maybe part of the problem is that I'm using dissatisfaction with certain aspects of my life as the driving force behind wanting to make improvements, and instead, I should sublimate that dissatisfaction into a sense of gratitude that I'm alive and healthy and very much in a position to make necessary changes and improvements. This is tough for me though. Perhaps the single quote that's made the biggest impact on me in recent years has been the following: "Suffering arises when our view of the way things ought to be doesn't match the way things are." (This is from a phenomenal book called Dharma Punx.) This quote made such an impact on me because it helped me tremendously with working on my state of mind. One time I remember walking in Manhattan and it started to rain, ruining my hair. Before I was able to get flustered, I quietly muttered to myself "It's okay that it's raining. Even though my evening won't go completely as planned, rain is a part of nature and nature is perfect." This mental exercise, inspired by that one quote, allowed me to not for a second get distraught over the triviality which I would have otherwise fixated on. This sentiment has helped me with other, more important things as well, such as dealing with pain (physical and emotional). For the first time though I find myself unsatisfied with my ability to apply the core of that quote to certain parts of my life - and I actually take some pride in that. This is because there are certain things, like one's most meaningful relationships, in which it would be utterly insulting to apply a mere acceptance of the status quo without working to improve every aspect of your dynamic with the people you care about.

So now I'm starting to realize that the quote, "Suffering arises when your view of the way things ought to be doesn't match the way things are," remains relevant to things solely beyond your control. For the parts of your life you can influence, however, improvement is always possible and is in fact a necessity which warrants the opposite of placid acceptance.

Chipped Teacups

I am a cup that used to be filled with love, filled with hope. Filled with ease, filled with calm.

Most of the contact I've had over the years has been with serrated edges: objects too hard and sharp for my delicacy.

Consequently my once smooth edges have cracked - at the base, at the rim, inside and outside, making me brittle. All this hope and love and ease and calm slipped right through. It began gradually, but soon these elements gushed right through my fractures to find a new, less broken home.

I sat on my dish patiently. I stopped waiting for sweet contents to pour back into me because I accepted that sweetness deserved a safe and elegant chalice. I, however, was neither of these. Thus, I sought bitterness and acidity. These would settle for a dreadful thing like me.

Time passed and I became more worn down and anything and everything I once accommodated has depleted. Left empty and utterly irreparable, I once more sat alone.

Then came You: harboring no intentions of piecing me back together with adhesive -

Because You found me perfect just as I am.

Thoughts on a Plane.

Complexity.

The root rejects its host - it longs for the uncertainty

married to the bride that is freedom.

The host's piercing energy unravels involuntarily--

instinctively attempting to capture the renegade parasite which now seeks flight.

Roots are destined for stagnancy,

entrenched in the darkness of the cold, coarse ground.

Why flee the warmth of the sun? The radiance it promises?

The irrational allure of freedom is the answer.

Life: a linear spectrum of gray matter: rarely black and white.

Life and death, sun and shade - an omnipresent fusion of extremes.

Absolutes make it too easy.

We must live the questions.

Life: A dizzying array of colors, a precise inventory of formulas--

intricacy battles simplicity.

In the end, majesty won.

Re-Examining My Biggest Inspiration

Delving into Walden four years after I first read it has been a refreshing experience. While reading the first chapter, Economy, I couldn't help but relfect upon what is perhaps Thoreau's most profound statement: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." It is so true; so many people feel like they are in a state of stagnancy and do not know how to move forward. Too often, people look for the solutions to their problems in all the wrong places and seek palliatives rather than real answers. Thoreau asserts that the best solution to any ailment is to genuinely simplify one's life. He claims that a "stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are the games and amusements of mankind;" I acknowledge that it is temporarily easier to deflect one's problems and engage in activities that assist in distracting oneself but it is far less meaningful than delving into our minds and introspecting. A thorough analysis of the path on which one treads has no substitute, and this practice has significantly enhanced the meaning of my own life. I admire someone who makes the effort to live such a pure life.

I sometimes look back on my time when I lived in New York for two years as my equivalent to Thoreau's time at Walden because I had to learn to apply sublimation to my distress and enjoy the time I spent alone. I was incredibly lonely, and was unable to form solid connections with anyone around me. I had to try and see the beauty in independence and had no option but to stop relying on others for happiness. Thoreau accomplished this, for he stresses on so many occasions that "the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hinderances to the elevation of mankind." I remember when I first read this exact line four years ago, and in retrospect, I think I retained it so well because this sentiment was one of the few ideas that got me through difficult times while attending my first high school in Manhattan; I tried to reiterate to myself that the superficiality by which I was surrounded was not going to get my peers anywhere, and it would not bring them long term peace. Only a lifestyle which Thoreau experienced where all superfluous and corrupt entities are weeded out of one's life will result in true contentment.

The portion of Walden entitled "Economy" dissects how Thoreau observes human nature to have entered a mind-numbing stupor. I see so many correlations between Thoreau's perception from the 1800s and my perception of the world now. Thoreau's critique in "Economy" in which he poses the question "Why should [men] eat their sixty acres, when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt?" is a reflection on how people fail to see the limits on what they can acquire. The same question was asked, in a more modern fashion (with references more pertinent to our culture in the 21st century) in a 2009 TIME magazine article entitled "The End of Excess". Thoreau mentions a concept he affectionately dubs "the divinity of man," making an allusion to the fact that human beings seem to put themselves up on pedestals -- as if we can infinitely consume and revel in delusions of false progress. He says that "there are so many keen and subtle masters that enslave both north and south" after discussing the issue of slavery and how frivolous an "amenity" it is to possess an enslaved person. These "subtle masters" of which Thoreau speaks are undoubtedly social conventions that people have this fervent need to buy into: social conventions, of any sort, that when embraced, hinder one's own sense of personal aspiration and individual pursuit of happiness.

I remember reading Thoreau when I was still at prep school in New York. His words helped me crawl out of the intense depression I had entered because his literature was able to remind me that going against the grain is healthy. I was miserable at my school because I felt as if there was something wrong with me due to my inability to relate to others. It was lines like "Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate" which helped me (and still helps me) understand the power of introspection and the importance of feeling comfortable with one's sense of self, for it reiterates that public opinion or popular fashion doesn't equal divine mandate or truth.

Broadening.

"To the sick the doctors wisely recommend a change of air and scenery." This sentiment at the very end of Walden carries such gravity to me personally because there was nothing I thought of more while I was living in New York. No matter how hard we try and think positively, sometimes uplifting ourselves is out of our control when we are in an environment we deem suffocating and unfit for us. Thoreau felt a similar sense of disgust for his environment and the over indulgence and blind acceptance he witnessed so prevalently around him. This is why he retreated to an atmosphere where it is absolutely essential to get to know your surroundings and think critically about everything in order to live adequately.

Thoreau exclaims, "Thank Heaven, here is not all the world. The buckeye does not grow in New England, and the mocking-bird is rarely heard here." It's truly ridiculous when people assume that the rest of the world is like the small cocoon in which they live. I admire the fact that Thoreau receives such excitement from the very prospect of exploration, let alone, physically going out to expand his horizons in unknown environments. He explains how we subconsciously set up boundaries in which we confine ourselves within our minds which are physically manifested through stone walls guarding our farms and rail-fences against our property. He maintains that this is the most pervasive tragedy. He says that "the universe is wider than our views of it," and therefore it is up to us to allow ourselves to continually expand our views. It is the only way to view the world holistically and not narrowly. Lines like these make me think of my seventh grade year during which I wrote a speech on introspection. My closing line was, "if you don't introspect you will still survive, but if you do introspect you will truly thrive."

Punk Rock, Thoreau, and Learning

My favorite Punk band of all time is Bad Religion. They are always blunt and forward with their social and political critiques and always attempt to provoke their listeners in an intelligent fashion. In their song, "21st Century Digital Boy," their lead singer, Greg Graffin, sings, "I'm a 21st century digital boy/ I don't know how to read but I've got a lot of toys." The underlying sentiment of these lines mirrors precisely what Thoreau gets across when he states the following: "As with our colleges, so with a hundred 'modern improvements,' there is an illusion about them... Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention away from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end." Thoreau is again commenting on misplaced priorities in society. Engagement with the natural world and all it has to offer for our self betterment become more and more distant in a society which is becoming increasingly concerned with materialism and artificial advancements. His comment about colleges touches upon how education started to become more and more standardized, as with most things in a capitalist society, leading to personalized approaches to happiness becoming more distant. He is aware of the fact that society offers too many petty distractions from our quests of self improvement; the Bad Religion song reflects this awareness as well. Today's climate exacerbates these social ailments when we have flashing billboards encouraging useless consumption; countless influences glittered with gaudy lights beg us mercilessly for our attention so we will fail to look inward, instead, at the emptiness which will one day present itself to us.

Longing and Simplicity

Thoreau's most commonly reiterated point is the value of leading a simple life. He has tremendous faith in the notion that an individual who leads a simplistic life will be the one to garner the most contentment. He claims that "There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature, and has his senses still." I love how Thoreau capitalizes "Nature," as if it is has a signature persona all its own with personified qualities of generosity and pacifism. He can proudly say, "I have never felt lonesome, or in the least oppressed by a sense of solitude."

I used to remember longing so badly for Thoreau's admirable sense of calm and collectivity. When I lived in New York, I tried my hardest to reach some semblance of peace from my loneliness but was never able to do so until the day I moved to California. In asking, "Can we not do without the society of our gossips a little while under these circumstances,--have our own thoughts to cheer us?" Thoreau critiques the commonness of everyone seeking pleasure and stimulation from external sources. The most valuable skill to acquire is the ability to be at peace with one's solitude, for in life, you really only have yourself. It's the most difficult ability to achieve but the most helpful because it will give you a sense of fulfillment in being able to produce a sense of belonging from directly within yourself.

Thoreau and Real Education

It's amusing for me to think about the correlations I see between Thoreau's gripes with society and the complaints I had about prep school. In Walden, Thoreau poses a question which reminds me of the Mark Twain quote, "I never let school interfere with my education." Thoreau's question is, "What is a course of history or philosophy, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of always looking at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer?" I see a correlation between the two quotes because both imply the value of acquiring knowledge through life experience and practical applications of one's experiences, rather than solely absorbing institutionalized education which often contradicts personal gratification. Back in New York, I was continually ostracized by students and administrators for poking holes at the information which my school wanted to hardwire into my mind. Thoreau boldly asks, "Why should we leave it to Harper and Brothers and Redding & Co. to select our reading?" I respect his posing of this question because it is not up for the institutions and media conglomerates to which we submit ourselves to decide for us what information we should take in; it is up to us to navigate through the variety of portals we have at our fingertips to discern what has bearing on our lives.

On a related point, I've always been an advocator of healthy provocation to simply reinforce the notion that one's thoughts can always be refined. Thoreau notes that "We boast that we belong to the nineteenth century, and we are making the most rapid strides of any nation. But consider how this little village does for its own culture. I do not wish to flatter my townsmen, nor to be flattered by them, for that will not advance either of us. We need to be provoked--." Healthy provocation, when exercised efficiently, is the key to breaking the delusions in which people live. While there is no doubt that our society has made extraordinary advancements socially, politically, and economically throughout history, the recent Wall Street crash was partially a result of people who got too comfortable abusing their privileges. Getting too settled into one's comfort zone can be dangerous, and to provoke is to send a genuine reminder that change is constant and we must embrace it to progress.

Excursions.

In my International Relations class we were studying "heroes" of the Realist and Liberalist realms of IR theory. I found particularly interesting the section on how Nixon and Kissinger worked diligently to improve US/USSR relations during their term. I guess what I found interesting was how Nixon and Kissinger were quintessential "realists" in every political sense: calculating, Manichean, striving for a unipolar world in which America prevailed leaving everyone else to eat our superior, capitalist dust. Yet, they were being quintessential Liberals in deciding to reach out through use of dialogue and overarching global institutions for a more peaceful world. This is a seemingly random anecdote from an otherwise subpar class, but lest I forget my point - I think I always find it fascinating to watch people explore other versions of themselves. I'm always intrigued when people decide to challenge their traditional way of conducting themselves - it almost always is conducive to learning and profound personal growth.

(Leaving Nixon aside, who clearly had a ton to learn, thus undermining my argument, let us move forward and make some more relevant parallels.)

I think the best human relationships are those where you discover parts of yourself that you didn't know existed. Whether you like what you discover or loathe these newfound qualities, they are still fibers, good or bad, which compose the person you are. The more you uncover about yourself, the more learning opportunities are presented before your eyes to seize vigorously in hopes of improving your life. I've come to discover that there exist certain relationships where both partners can be so remarkably similar, so much so that talking to the other person can be like talking to yourself. This can be so useful because I've found, in my own life, that engaging in somewhat of a "mental dialogue" with myself is the best way to work out problems or extrapolate certain issues to their logical conclusions. A healthy relationship can be a portal through which to accomplish this every second of the day, consciously and subconsciously. I really think that the best relationships put you at such ease that you may not even notice yourself shifting from your traditional self into a more creative, thoughtful, more observant version of you until the mutual benefits are reaped. I suppose this idea of transformation truly enamors me. I always knew that people had the potential to change for the worse. It always scared me. It's nice to remember that people can also change for the better, too.

Imagination

Thoreau had heard many stories about the bottom of Walden Pond, or rather, the lack thereof, and had to see for himself. His reasoning for doing so can be deciphered from his statement, "It is remarkable how long men will believe in the bottomlessness of a pond without taking the trouble to sound it." This thought process is beautiful because it's a metaphor for so many beliefs that humankind possesses regarding infinite versus finite means. The "bottomlessness of a pond" to which he refers could be replaced with the concept of natural resources in today's world, such as oil and other amenities that we have endlessly been consuming. Now, we are faced with the realistic fact that the road of consumption has an imminent dead end.

He discovers that the maximum depth of the water was approximately one hundred seven feet. Astounded at how remarkable a depth this is for such a small looking area, he poses the question, "What if all ponds were shallow? Would it not react on the minds of men? I am thankful that this pond was made deep and pure for a symbol. While men believe in the infinite, some ponds will be thought to be bottomless." Thoreau is remarking upon two things here. Firstly, he realizes the unflinching belief of mankind that things are everlasting. From the notion of the afterlife to the consumption practices mentioned earlier, it would be much more practical to go about something with the mindset that nothing lasts forever, or that all good things must come to an end. Secondly, albeit slightly contrary to the first point, he is remarking upon the infinite capabilities of people to achieve great things. Even though our resources are finite, our imagination is infinite.

Thoreau and Manson

One of my favorite lines of Walden is the following: "No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can be trusted without proof."

If I were to choose a mantra for Punk Rock, this would definitely be it.

To me, Punk is in very large part concerned with being a free-thinking individual - an individual who will not adhere to the arbitrary and commonly accepted trends of society simply because it is the status quo. Of course, if you arrive to a conclusion on your own which happens to mesh with that of society's, this is wholly acceptable. However, the key is simply not to just accept something because it has prevailed for generations or because it is unquestioned. I've always thought that Marilyn Manson is one of the strongest proprietors of this philosophy. In his song "Antichrist Superstar," he sings about how people have a tendency to submit themselves to the "common mode of living" without thinking. He sings, "I didn't have to sell you - you threw your money in the pissing well, you do just what they tell you." Thoreau found it devastating that there is such a huge portion of our minds that we allow to remain inactive. Marilyn Manson, a true Punk in every sense of the word, would certainly be alligned with Thoreau on this score.

More Thoreau Commentary

Reading "Where I Lived, And What I Lived For," perhaps my favorite chapter of Walden, is as refreshing as it is painful. Thoreau extrapolates upon certain ideas which he holds to be essential in life, and creates an ideal portrait of how we should live. It is delightful to read because it makes me feel validated - almost as if Thoreau would applaud my development as a thinker, because I really resonate with much of what he says. It is also difficult to read because it reiterates how far the masses have digressed in terms of vigilance and true engagement with the world. At the same time, Thoreau provides some advice which I found to be a bit puzzling while reading this section. He advises, "...I would say to my fellows, once and for all, as long as possible live free and uncommitted." Living freely is something I completely understand. Contrastly, I assumed that Thoreau would proclaim the opposite regarding commitment. I imagine him the type who would deem an existence where one is committed to something (not necessarily a person, but an idea or cause) to be the only type of life that has meaning. Then I read further and realized he probably agrees with me on this score, but simply meant that one should never be stuck in a state of mental stagnancy. He speaks of "renewing thyself completely each day," so he is trying to get across the idea that living freely means never being dogmatic and settling too quickly once you have found your niche. Such a level of comfort can sometimes be dangerous because it is when we are unsettled that we strengthen our search for truth and meaning. Therefore, being too situated in a comfort zone can often translate to closing oneself off from further growth.

Again, I must reiterate how inspirational Thoreau's opinions are, but they bring me to such sad realizations. He knows "of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor," yet I see so much apathy around me in regard to improving one's station in life. I, too, fell prey once to a demoralizing state of being that prevented me from "elevating" myself. I feel that I've learned how destructive apathy can be, which is why I try to make a conscious effort to analyze the negative components in my life and configure a way to correct them. Still, there are a bit too many people who become devoured by the sin of complacency and forget that change is constant. This line of thought reminds me of the title of a Dead Kennedy's album called "Give me Convenience or Give me Death."

Thoreau and Punk Rock

Thoreau's ideas and his actions completely resonate with the Punk philosophy. In Walden, he recounts having gone to jail for a day for not paying his taxes, and ever since I learned of his defiance, my respect for him instantaneously went up. He was even disappointed when his aunt had bailed him out. His reasoning for refusing to pay the tax was because he did not want to "...recognize the authority of the state which buys and sells men, women, and children, like cattle at the door of its senate-house." I wish I had the courage not to pay my federal income taxes once I become an adult. Those taxes are totally unconstitutional. However, when the time comes, I see myself simply complying. Thoreau's critiques on how society operates are particularly Punk because he believes that "...wherever a man goes, men will pursue and paw him with their dirty institutions, and if they can, constrain him to belong to their desperate odd-fellow society." Punk philosophy is, in part, concerned with the value of the individual, and how modern society places unfair and arbitrary constraints on us. I believe that true adherents to Punk thought are skeptical of governmental policy and take the time to understand the downsides of capitalism, which Thoreau clearly saw looming during his lifetime. His quote indicates a distaste for how people are "pawed" because they are seen as units who are to be put to work rather than individuals who should be able to think and live freely. I love how he refers to our culture as an "odd-fellow society" because I agree with his stance on how individuals are corrupted by society's intention to mold people into effective servants to capitalism. He refers to them as "odd-fellows" because they transform from pure, unadulterated citizens to people who are displaced from their true selves because they are conditioned to think their purpose equals their function, or their work. Consequently, most of us fail to entertain the prospect of finding true contentment.

"Nature" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

My favorite line of "Nature" may just be the following: "These enchantments are medicinal, they sober and heal us. These are plain pleasures, kindly and native to us." This line is immensely powerful because it iterates how the remedy for most modern ailments can be found by appreciating that which was here before us, and that which will be here long after we perish. The everlastingness of nature must enchant us at a deeply personal level because despite modern medicine, despite the revolution incited by the antibiotic, there is still a sacred, mystic healing power of a peaceful yoga retreat in the Himalayas. For me at least, even something as simple as a picnic in the grass leaves me nostalgic for some reason in a way that going to the movies or arcade will not, regardless of who I am with. This sentiment reminds me of another one of Emerson's quotes: "We never can part with it; the mind loves its old home: as water to our thirst, so is the rock, the ground, to our eyes, and hands, and feet." He is referring to Nature and how its presence is something that will always be imbibed within us no matter how distant we may physically be from it.

One line in particular made me think of something Thomas Jefferson said. When Emerson claims, "Cities give not the human senses room enough," it made me think of how Jefferson greatly valued an agrarian America. He saw those who worked the earth to be the "chosen men of God" and he hoped with all his heart that America wouldn't industrialize to the degree which European society had because he observed how Europeans seemed to "eat at" each other. This may very well be because industry, or other trends of modernization, suffocates us in ways that only Nature can liberate us from.

Questions Thoreau Makes Me Ponder:

In Walden, I stumbled upon what I consider to be a fascinating conflict. Thoreau explains, "I found in myself, and still find, an instinct toward a higher, or, as it is named, spiritual life, as do most men, and another toward a primitive rank and savage one, and I reverence them both." I engage in the same thought process on such a frequent basis. He sometimes feels as if there is conflict between the two lifestyles, but I think he has struck a balance, which is one of the most important prospects in life. I sometimes feel as though we as humans are less "human" than we were centuries ago. I occasionally deem it ludicrous that we would suppress our natural instincts for the sake of being politically correct or conforming to social standards. Yet, other times I feel as if I must treat my body as a temple and dedicate my life to spiritual evolution, for we are not merely animals but also spiritual beings capable of seeking out fundamental truths during introspection. Thoreau claims that "goodness is the only investment that never fails." Most people at some point in their lives wrestle with the issue of morality, and ask themselves the question of when being "good" is going to pay off. I wish I had unflinching faith like Thoreau does. His firm belief that the cosmic order of nature will reward those who do good seems as if it would make one feel so much more at ease in life.

Transcendentalism.

Henry David Thoreau's words ooze with undertones of malice for the emerging corporate ethos which he saw to be dominating American culture. Still, in his time, I'm sure he maintained that this emergence was not as all-permeating as it is today. A beautiful chapter of Walden entitled "The Ponds" details all the splendor and beauty of the simple things Nature has to offer anyone with a keen eye. He talks about amenities such as coffee, teas, butter, and how so many people work incredibly hard to be able to purchase things such as these. The key, however, is that he implies how the lives that the masses lead are wasted in trying to acquire material things by toiling day in and day out. He mentions, "But the only true America is that country where you are at liberty to pursue such a mode of life as may enable you to do without these, and where the state does not endeavor to compel you to sustain the slavery and war and other superfluous expenses which directly or indirectly result from the use of such things." I take this to mean that with the propensity to acquire which inevitably grows out of capitalism, Americans still fundamentally have a choice about what kind of life they want to live. You can choose to submit yourself to the capitalist system and "work hard to eat hard," so to speak, or, you could resign from that way of living, just as Thoreau had, and seek fulfillment someplace else. I think he is saying that if you choose to spend your days in a traditional manner which entails finding an occupation to take up your days, endlessly bonded to a cycle of ceaseless work and subsequent consumption, then you may find yourself "enslaved." Still, at the end of the day, you can choose to opt out. I do not think such an option is nearly as easy today as it once may have been. It is unfortunate but the forces of socialization which condition us to submit ourselves to the aforementioned cycle are so incredibly strong that it is not feasible for the common person to withdraw from it and seek a life of fine quality elsewhere. It is not impossible, but it certainly takes strong character.

Reflecting Upon Emerson

Having recently moved to Boston for college, I've decided to delve into some of the works from great New England thinkers, mainly my Transcendental-soulmates, Thoreau and Emerson. I've always found "The American Scholar" to be extremely eloquent. I will start my reflection by citing a portion of the speech which I currently relate to most: "Meek young men grow up in libraries believing it their duty to accept the views which Cicero, which Locke, which Bacon have given, forgetful that Cicero, Locke, and Bacon were only young men in libraries when they wrote these books." I don't think I've ever been one to blindly accept anyone's philosophies without first thinking critically, but there is a specific dilemma I believe I face. I read the works of great thinkers and become so enchanted by their ingenuity and dazzled by their brilliance, and I sometimes forget that if I work and think hard enough, I may be capable of contributing something to society just like my heroes (mainly Thoreau and Chomsky, right now) have. I sometimes feel powerless because even though we live in a society, which, because it is grounded in capitalistic values, should theoretically reward ingenuity and innovative ideas, it often does not. I find this daunting and occasionally doubt whether it is worth it to strive for anything other than mediocrity. I quickly recover from this thought process, however, and realize that if anything else I know I will simply find it more fun to stimulate myself mentally, and if I happen to achieve something great in the process, so be it. Still, it is not fun to fall prey to demoralizing thoughts where I question the impact I am capable of making as one tiny unit in a massive, convoluted world.

On a similar note, Emerson remarks, "The so-called 'practical men' sneer at speculative men, as if, because they speculate or see, they could do nothing." It's so true, too! I wonder how many parents genuinely fear for their children if they see them developing a tendency to think freely and outside the box - as if society will have no place for them because they are too iconoclastic and less willing to submit themselves to traditional ways of doing things. Still, I must say, I do believe it is 100% understandable for a critical person to become jaded very early on, hence, falling prey to apathy does make sense if you are aware enough to understand how the world works and consequently have difficulty seeing yourself as a content, active participant within it. It's interesting how such a keen awareness of the world can either propel one to "do" something about it or to develop such a deep-seated revulsion toward all things, thus retreating and forever living a life enshrouded in observation and speculation rather than physical creation. Emerson claims "The preamble of thought, the transition through which it passes from the unconscious to the conscious, is action." Gosh, it's amazing how difficult this can be to implement sometimes.

Nonetheless, it was refreshing to read "The American Scholar" because Emerson's words were so infused with a beautiful sense of hope. His faith in human reason and potential is so inspiring. Thoreau's work contains a similar appreciation for human potential, but his language is more emotional to me. Emerson's declarations of human potential hit me at a more cerebral rather than visceral level for some reason. Here is a portion of Emerson's speech which I really enjoyed: "One must be an inventor to read well. As the proverb says, 'He that would bring home the wealth of the Indies, must carry out the wealth of the Indies.' There is then creative reading as well as creative writing." I took this to mean that if we want to be active members of society, we cannot simply consume without producing something of redeeming social value. Society, with all its plagues and banes, gives us many useful things such as portal through which we can express ourselves and connect with others of similar mindsets. Therefore, it is our obligation to give something back to society in whichever way we see fit. I'm excited to figure out exactly what my particular calling may be...