When the Voices in Your Head Won't Even Keep You Company
One of the many, many reasons why I didn’t become an English schoolteacher is because of Walden Pond. This scintillating bit of American literature written by Henry David Thoreau quickly negated any harboring desires I had for the, well, second oldest profession. After all, this guy is required text for high school kids. If I became a teacher, I'd have to revisit this guy every year. I'd become a narcoleptic. Apparently my mind is too mundane for the abstractness of transendentialism. That's fine. I've made peace with that.
Then some years back, I went to Boston; and on the way through Concord (to Boston), I stopped at the place of Walden Pond. It was February; and I have to say the pond looked awesome. You couldn’t fit the whole thing in one camera shot; it was beautiful. I looked at the mock-up of the house he lived in, specified to the dimensions he used. I think the whole room was the size of the kitchen in my apartment. Not a place you’d want to swing a cat—or even try to. It was his kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom combined. Humble doesn’t even encompass its simple means. Not a neighbor for miles…didn’t want a neighbor. Wanted to live in peace and experience for himself. Okay then.
Over the weekend, I moved into my little simple-living apartment, which didn’t take long. I have a full-size bed on a little metal frame and a six-foot tall bookshelf. I had 15 boxes of books. Four milk crates of DVDs. One box of shoes. (My friend Pam would say I need my priorities re-examined.) I’d been dreaming of this moment of living by myself, of the beautiful silence.
No TV blaring at 3 a.m. because my brother doesn’t get up until noon. No weird friends (of my brother’s) who I can’t stand, trying to talk to me as I walk from the kitchen to the bedroom. More space. Quiet. Peace. You know what I found out after spending 24 hours with just myself?
I don’t like the peace and quiet. And boy was I lonely. I don't mind being alone, but the lonely part drove me barking mad yesterday. I don’t like not having a TV in the house; those people in the black magic box are my friends, damnit. What the devil did people do before television? All I had to listen to on Sunday was my alarm clock radio; and there was no news. I couldn’t find out what was going on. I spent my Sunday evening sorting through my piles of clothing to figure out which ones to hang up, which ones to put in drawers (when I get some), and which ones to flat out throw away. (A lot of my underwear fell into the third pile. “Yuck, these are hideously ugly. Why did I ever buy these?”) I am not scintillating company. No wonder Thoreau was boring. After 24 hours with just myself, I found myself thrilled to go to work, just for the opportunity to mingle with my co-workers. I even showed up on time.
This living simple crap is for the birds. I’m getting a TV and stand at the soonest possible endeavor, and setting it up in my living room. If I have to crouch on my floor in blankets and bed pillows, so be it, but I need my Must See TV. The evening news. Or at the very least one of my many romantic comedies.
Now many of you would say, “Why didn’t you write?”, because that’s the first thing Sin asked me when she called me on Sunday and I got all weepy and whiney on the phone when I found out there was to be no company and no cheese. For her, the prospect of being in an apartment that didn’t have a man in it, loitering over her shoulder and making comments worthy of an Internal Editor, sounded like Nirvana. Grass is always greener, my friend.
I don’t know why I didn’t crack out the computer. I haven’t had anything to write lately; and as depressed as I was yesterday in that silent apartment, I’m pretty sure it would have been a weeper of a scene. In fact, the only time when I wasn’t in a fetal position was when I was sorting through my clothes and my books, figuring out which to keep and which to toss. Industry does keep depression in check, I must say. That and a bag of mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
I’m hoping I adjust to living by myself because I have run out of socks to sort. Although I think I may have sorted out my writing problem and I might do some writing instead tonight. Here's hoping.
Have you ever gotten what you wanted and it wasn’t quite as wonderful as you thought? Ever spend the day with yourself and realize you might not be as fun and charming as you once thought? What’s the longest you’ve done without watching a TV program? Anyone else think Thoreau was a complete bore?
Books by the Crew
58 comments:
I love Thoreau. And he knew the value of companionship too, Hellion. After all, he had three chairs in that house at Walden, "one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society."
While I don't think I could be happy as a recluse, I do need time alone to be happy. I'm at my bitchiest when I haven't had my bits of solitude.
Will you throw me off he ship if I also add that even though there are four televisions in my house, I haven't watched anything since the Falcons lost to the Cards on January 3?
Thoreau also wrote, "Friends... they cherish one another's hopes. They are kind to one another's dreams." Now you know a man who could write such words can't be totally boring.
Well, I can join Janga in the crowsnest, I guess. I adore Thoreau. And Whitman and Emerson. I think you need the right teachers with the transendentalists... A man I'll never forget taught Whitman's Song of Myself as a classic mystic experience and I was lost...it was so perfect!
I have been to Walden, though I was there at the peak of Autumn, when the leaves were intensely gold, orange and all manner of fall wonder...
I'm also a loner. True, my tv is on most of the time when I'm home and I do the majority of my writing at busy Starbucks... But I have few social contacts.
I have had the experience of a long wished for experience which didn't reach expectations. The trip to the Boston area was one of those. The cruise to Hawaii of two years ago... I gave up on expectations after that. You know, you get what you get. I can hope for sweet things, but expect them, specifically? Nope.
Cap'n, you'll get better at living alone and discover an appreciation for the quiet of a snug home all yer own...
And find a cheese dip that makes your heart soar again...
If I ever read Thoreau, I can't recall.
I was an only child, and I crave solitude. I write and read better alone w/o the drone of the TV in the background (married to sports nut). Sometimes I think I'm becoming a hermit, but I know it's winter-related---I just can't bring myself to step out of the house in the cold and snow and ice unless it's absolutely necessary, like going to work.
I actually watched two movies on TV last weekend, but I can go for months w/o it. Used to watch the Today Show before work---no more. I get most of my news and entertainment online, which keeps me sequestered in my own little room, where there is definitely no room to swing a cat, dog, or ferret.
Remember prom? All the shopping and anticipation? The actual dance was always a huge letdown. Big events---weddings, graduations, etc.---always tend to be less than you expect. I sometimes think the more effort you make with something, the less likely the spontaneous joy. So think small, and enjoy your new digs!
You know I'm positive there were things I wanted so bad that they were a let down in the end. I cannot remember what those things are at the moment though!
I was pondering this very issue recently, Hellion. We are trying to figure out what to do about my ailing FIL living by himself. A few of us believe the solitude is not really good for him, although I'm not sure any of us are brave enough to do anything about that!
I grew up in a family of 9, moved in with 2 roommates, got married and moved in with my DH and within 4 years added two little ones and a dog to the mix. There are days I think I'll go insane if I'm not left alone for at least an hour. I was left alone for quite a long time last Saturday night and actually felt a little lonely. Didn't want to read, I haven't watched regular series TV in years, and I didn't feel like jumping on the computer. It was an odd feeling for me - I finally got what I wanted and it wasn't really what I wanted. I jokingly told the DH I want everyone home - I just want them all to leave me alone. I'm very used to activity and people I think what I crave is actually just being a crewmate instead of the captain!
*LOL* I knew Janga would rush to Thoreau's defense. I might have an appreciation for him NOW, but I assure you at the time, I couldn't have cared less. And then when I was an English major I managed to avoid the transendentalists as subject matter because I'd been so burned as a high schooler. I think if teachers are passionate about something, they can teach it better. Which is probably why I loved my college teachers so much more--they had classes they taught that they actually cared about and it showed and it made you interested in it.
Now I owe a LOT to Ms. Yount; and I admit having to teach snotty little teenagers all day (who do not read the assignments and lie and say they did) for 30+ years probably doesn't make you passionate for much other than summer vacation, when you can at least go to summer school with colleagues with an IQ higher than a shoe size--but I cannot tell you what she was remotely passionate about in English literature. Everything we studied under her seemed to be a trial. And we always interpreted it wrong.
Are you all saying I should give Thoreau another shot? How about a book of his more famous quotations...I'm not sure I'm up for slogging through his works.
Oh, I forgot to say good luck with the new digs! We'll just have to find you some creative ways to chase the loneliness away.
2nd Chance: I hate to admit this, but we studied Whitman soon after...and he replace Thoreau on my top list of "avoid reading in the future."
Here, I'll admit it. This is what I hated most about studying literature in high school. It was all about trees and nature and death and all these things that seemed insipid. Plus I only had to go home and talk to my mother to hear all I ever wanted to about death--the woman was always harping about it. I wanted literature about passion and sex and love and conflict and living in this world. Here were my school days studying guys who wanted to live beyond the physical and be spiritual; and on Sundays, I was inundated with constant reminders not to live in the world and to be more spiritual...and all I wanted to something LIVING. Not philosophical.
Plus Whitman didn't rhyme. I love the cleverness of rhyme...I think it takes more to make a poem rhyme, make sense, AND have great meaning.
I was really glad in 12th grade when we had the computer class and I found the Lord Byron poem. So We'll Go No More A-Rovin'...NOW THAT was passion. THAT was a reason to fall in love with literature. And soon after that, I found Keats and I was completely lost.
What can I say? I was more a Romantic than a Transendentalist. HOWEVER, I really enjoyed my trip to Concord and I was very excited to walk in the paths where famous writers had been. I was really hoping a little of their brilliance would rub off on me.
Maggie, if I had the internet, I wouldn't have missed the TV. *LOL* I just needed SOMETHING "live". I can skip the TV; and I don't watch TV much...I mean, I can't tell you what's happening on Grey's Anatomy or 2 1/2 Men. I watch DVDs...and I would LOVE to have the TODAY show on before I go to work. That's my little pipe dream of happiness there. Get ready for work while the TODAY show plays in the background; drink some Starbucks; and watch the news.
On the drive home yesterday, I remembered my computer actually plays DVDs. So I'm rushing home to hook up my computer, calling my honey on the phone (since he was sweet enough to leave me a message), and popping in a movie (Fools Rush In)--and it was BLISS. I had a friend on the phone; and a friend on the TV. If I'd had an extra hand to heat cheese dip, I would have died of ecstasy.
Maggie said: I sometimes think the more effort you make with something, the less likely the spontaneous joy.
I think this is SO true. *LOL* I've been to weddings like that; the details stressed everyone out so much that they weren't celebrations anymore!
*LOL* Tiff, that's one of the things I love best about you. You don't dwell on disappointments--you just go out and find happiness.
I love the transcendentalists as a whole, but Thoreau's not my favorite. Most of the men aren't really as interesting as the female characters at the time. Mary Moody Emerson is way more interesting than her nephew. And Margaret Fuller, arguably the greatest mind of the time (don't stone me anyone who's thinks that's blasphemy) but not taken as seriously in publication as Emerson because she wore a dress.
Anywho, what I really wanted to tell you is that I remember getting my first place. I moved across the great state of PA into my first apartment in NJ. I knew no one in NJ and I had pretty sparse furniture as well. I was 22.
At first I spent all my time away from the apartment, only going back to sleep. I was out almost every night. When I was home, I was out of sorts, didn't feel grounded anymore. Every sound in the place made me jump and every shadow menaced.
I called my mom all the time, I called my friends, I cried a lot. I'd take long drives just to be away.
But it got easier. It took about 6 months. But before long the silence didn't bother me quite as much. I would leave a party/bar just to go back to the quiet of my place. I decorated it the way I wanted and it stopped looking like my mom threw up her style all over it.
When I had to move out and in with a roommate, I missed the silence. (Especially cause my roomie was nuts, but that's another story). The closest I ever came to that again was when I moved in with a guy (friend) who worked nights. Kept to himself, didn't have girl crap all over the place, and lacked drama.
But it does take getting used to. My advice: just try to embrace it, even the loneliness and especially the liberation. And go out as much as you can tolerate.
*HUGS* Irish, that's it exactly! And believe me, having people around me drives me nuts. But then the total absence of them drives me nuttier. I didn't really want to read either. *LOL* And everyone I've mentioned this to went: "Well, you had books. What was wrong?"
Grass is always greener. Everyone wants time to themselves and to be alone. But you forget about the possibility of being lonely.
Marnee: Good advice. *HUGS* Thank you. I think too once I get more stuff in it, it won't look as depressing. *LOL* The living room is empty but for the DVDs. Last night was a lot better. As I said, it dawned on me that my computer will play DVDs and I blissed out talking to my honey and watching part of Fools Rush In. I even slept better.
And I even wrote a little, but not a lot.
That's great! :) I agree, some decor helps matters. Don't decorate too much at first though. I always do that and end up redoing when I find what I really want. :)
*sniff*
I asked you how you were doing FIRST.
Then I asked about writing.
Yeesh. I'm not that heartless.
And anyway, I'll be bringing lots of cheese dip and chips when I come over this weekend. I can't wait until I live closer.
Are you going to move over near here?? *cocks head* Are you guys looking?
I admit you did ask how I was doing first. Then you said you were proud of me I had moved out; and then when I still sounded weepy and pathetic on the phone, you asked why I wasn't writing. *LOL* You moved onto tough love and what I wanted was cheese dip and company. *LOL*
I think so much of me staying out in the middle of nowhere and doing the whole recluse thing is because my friends all have lives. Usually with significant others--so in a sense, I felt like less of a loser way out in the middle of the woods than I do by myself nearer to town. I sometimes feel like that maiden aunt who goes from house to house because she has no other place to live really; and she's taken in because she's family...but she's always a third wheel. Living out in the middle of nowhere made me more of a hermit and less of a maiden aunt.
We're looking on the north side of town. I admit, I have alternative motives for being on that side of town since y'all live there; but the south side is getting ghetto. Well- been ghetto for a while. I need OUT of the city limits, no matter how far I move away from Hyvee, I can still come into the city. It ain't THAT far.
Did you know I told Matt we could move out to Hinton and he told me, "Damn. That's too far out."
LMFAO
I know. If I hadn't worked my booty off on Saturday, I could've came over for a while on Sunday before the in-law dinner; but I hadn't gotten a lick of stuff done around the house and I had 7 loads of laundry to do and two loads of dishes. This weekend, I'm taking an extra day off, so I can definitely come over.
PS. I bet it was nice this morning to wake up and not wonder if there was too much snow on the ground to make it to work.
Hellion, I think it's easier for those teaching at the college level to retain their passion about their subjects. The subject is narrower, the students are fewer, research is ongoing, conferences more frequent, and conversation with colleagues more likely to be about ideas. Good hs teachers have to remain passionate not just about subject matter but about teaching itself, a much more difficult task IMO. They also have to do so much junk that has nothing to do with actual teaching and put up with stuff that would turn most college profs pale with dismay.
As a veteran of both the hs and college classroom, I still think the most creative and most significant work I did was high school teaching. And even after all these years, I'm still passionate about teaching. It matters so much, as you demonstrate in your feelings about Thoreau.
I seem to have developed a habit of bringing my soapbox aboard ship lately. Sorry! :)
I love when you bring the soapbox. I always have mine out. Nice to see someone else carries theirs around.
I just love the pretty southern flowers and angels painted on Janga's soupbox. Sin's is a little scarier with all those stickers I usually only see on skateboards.
Welcome to the lonely hearts club! LOL! I've been living alone (me & kiddo really) for a little over 7 years. Obviously, kiddo makes noise so I'm not lonely. But there are times (10 wks in the summer!) when she's with her dad and boy is that house quiet. Thank goodness I have that bird and hamster to talk to.
I couldn't go without television. I mean, I don't have a lot of shows that I HAVE to watch. But it's always on. It's just the way I was raised. I've been working on turning it off more. On weeknights we're back to leaving it off until 7pm. And if I"m cleaning or doing homework on the weekends, it's off.
I'm sure I had to read some Thoreau in HS, but I really don't remember. Which means I probably didn't get it. And I could never be a recluse. I'm too much of a talker. :)
As for things being disappointing, Maggs has a point. When you build something up, sometimes it can never meet your expectations. But I've been lucky this year in that Nationals, the local conference I planned and the company holiday party I planned all met my expectations. Hat trick! (Hockey reference...sorry.)
Janga, I must agree with you about HS vs college teaching. I haven't ever taught college, but HS teaching is less about subject and more about dealing with adolescents. I always warn fledgling teachers or those going into education that if they are going in because they love their subject matter, they might want to choose something else.
I think teachers should only teach if they love teenagers. Cause those teenagers aren't going to remember as much about transcendentalism, for example, as they will about you and what life lessons/skills they learn from you.
That would be Janga's SOAPBOX, not soupbox. LOL! Though she could have a little Campbells box. I don't know.
Captain - So you wrote last night? How did it go? Did you write the locked out of the house scene?
I would give you the kitchen table but we trashed it the weekend after Christmas.
I love being alone...with a TV and a good book, AND my laptop:)
I like the TV for background noise. Although, cartoons of this day and time can drive me to drink. The joy of having a 9 year old.
I remember when I first moved out I was excited, and then reality set in. I didn't have a TV, so I played the radio. I'm with you , it just didn't do it for me. I never got to the sorting socks part.
The hardest thing I have ever done without is a bathroom. Moving in with my mom for three days was torture. I often say I would have loved living in historical times, but I bet the chamber pot was the pitts.
Ooh, I forgot to ask Hellie- you need a couch? I have one in need of a home.
It really is a shame you don't live closer. I'll be getting rid of my kitchen table this weekend. I bet it's the perfect size for your place since I had it in my smaller apartment. (Not that this apartment is huge mind you...just has a larger dining room.)
Marnee - That's a great statement about what those teenagers are going to remember. I think that should be posted in ever Teacher's Lounge across the country.
I *NEED* a couch. In the worst way. Sweet! I might have a living room by Monday...this would be lovely!
Most excellent! I've given big blue a home! I'm so EXCITED! I didn't want to pitch it. It was our first couch. And his parent's first couch. It's a sleeper sofa. I mean, it's not like you've never sat on it and if you want it re-upholstered, we can go look for fabric for me to do it.
I completely agree about the HS vs College teaching. I read an article the other day where they were discussing whether school teachers were underpaid (which um, yes, they're VERY underpaid), but that the writer said that he got a bunch of letters (when he wrote an article suggesting this) that there are people who think school teachers are on the level with babysitters. To which my thoughts were: Oh. My. God. Followed by: You can't be serious.
There is so much red tape and no-child-left-behind and MAPP tests and all other such crap that people wouldn't have dreamed of a 100 years ago which have very little to do with learning and a lot to do with short-term-memory-testing. I think it's just sad...because so many kids don't go to college and realize how much more fulfilling those classes are.
Of course, I'm pretty sure my respect for teachers comes from that my grad students who come through here are teachers--and I get to hear all these screw ball things they have to do. I love it when ignorant people say, "Schoolteachers are people who just don't want to work three months a year." I mean, what a load of crap. For one, they're working like 60-80 workweeks in the other 9 months. For two, they usually get to spend their summers (as well as the fall and winter hours when they're not working) taking more coursework to maintain their certification and get paid more. Though they don't usually get paid "more" enough to count against what it cost to take the course.
I love sprawling on Big Blue. He'll clash with my wall...so I have to decide whether to paint the wall (probably back white): unlikely; or toss over something that doesn't clash with the wall, like a neutral color. I have a Joann's fabric coupon; we can find something to sew and throw on it. Some pillows and voila.
And Janga, you can bring your soapbox anytime on this ship. We love it when everyone gets rowdy. *grins* Nothing like a healthy debate to liven things up.
Wait, that sounds like something Bo'sun would say. *LOL*
*bumps fists with Lisa* See, I can be alone--but I need my TV, computer, and radio...THANK YOU.
I *amen* the bathroom stuff. It does suck to be without a bathroom! I could not live in the olden days with chamber pots. Nooooo... I guess if I'd been born in that time and knew nothing else, but to time travel and be stuck there--I think I'd throw myself off a bridge.
Terri, I wish I did live closer. I'd have the TV and a table...and I'd be a quick drive from THE BEST BAR EVER.
Of course, if I did live closer, I wouldn't have scored Big Blue. And that's a killer ass couch.
Oh, and Terri, no I didn't get to do the towel scene. I got distracted with some "outline at a glance" which I worked on, then got stuck. Read my opening chapter so far; still liked the story...then decided, "Hey, it's 11 pm. I'm tired." So I went to bed.
But I should be home earlier tonight...so I will endeavor to work on the towel scene.
Why do I keep thinking if Mattycakes read the term "towel scene", he'd have a much different thought in mind than the one I'll actually be writing?
Yay for the couch! I say go low maintenance and buy a slipcover. Then you can take it off and wash it. You know, when you get *something* on it...
Yep, you would have had a TV and an entertainment center and a table and several other things if you were closer. And there's the bar, so true.
That debate comment is so something I'd say. I knew I was a good influence on you. LOL!
*gimlet stare at Bo'sun* Thanks, Monica, I know how clutzy I can be with my glasses of soda. Good idea.
You are. It's why I keep you.
Like you're drinking out of glasses. And that's not soda, my dear....
LMAO. Big blue doesn't fit in a slipcover. It's 3.5 feet wide and 7 feet long. Hence why I make stuff for it.
I can sew my own slipcover. *LOL* Maybe. Surely.
The back of the couch looks really great. It's still black. I did a great job with the black slipcover, but the blue one *shaking head* I wasn't motivated.
It is brown velvet. We could take everything off and leave it, babe.
I do love the poets who can play with words. I actually memorized The Raven at one point in my life. Can still recite a few stanzas in a pinch...
But Walt was a flesy poet! He wrote about sex and love, and embracing the variety of life! And I do love how he self-promoted. There's a real lesson there for all of us! Toot your own horn. If he hadn't done that, Leaves of Grass might have gone unnoticed.
Yes, a good teacher makes all the difference. I didn't even get the transcendatalists in high school, it took the good JC and being ten years older than an average senior to appreciate Walt.
*taking my barrel of rum and rolling it away, lecture over.
Admit it, much more fun to watch me balance on my rum barrel when pontificating than on a soapbox, or soupbox, as the case may be!
Ooh, I love The Raven. That's a good one. Though I think I loved Annabelle Lee more because it was more "romantic" and tragic. "When I was a child and she was a child in our kingdom by the sea..."
I probably would have liked it all better in college. Even the transendentalists. I liked A LOT of things a lot more in college.
That probably doesn't sound right.
Poe is probably the only one I really remember studying. The Raven, of course, but I remember the Pit & the Pendulum (sp?) even better. That totally freaked me out. I mean, that dude was not stable. And I think I read that in 7th grade!
That's one large ass couch...
You know I really enjoyed Poe. His stuff was really great; and I rather liked Twain as well because he was so smart-alecky. *LOL*
See, there was stuff I liked in English class.
Cap'n if you need company in that new home, a pet might fit the bill. Its well known that dogs and cats can be very empathetic to humans. They know when you are coming home and always have a welcome waiting. They also know when you are unhappy and will cuddle up to you to try and improve your lot. (See Rupert Sheldrake.....'Dogs that know when their owners are coming home')
Afraid the rest of the discussion is way above my head. I have never looked at Thoreau and would run a mile from the 'transcendentalists'. Never been able to appreciate the writings of philosophers, particularly on metaphysics. They seem to spend all their time looking at a problem from different angles, defining the necessary questions and never actually answering or solving anything much. Now science...thats in a different ball park! *grin*
I know! It's like they spend all that time thinking of long and convoluted words about their navel, but not saying anything of importance. Fortunately I hear Edgar Allen Poe didn't care much for them either. He said something it was along the lines of "mysticism for mysticism's sake." That cracks me up. That sounds so true.
I was thinking about cat, but I'd have to pay more of a deposit. And stuff. But it's being considered. I might wait until I furnish the place a bit. Even a cat might be a bit particular about a place with no furniture to hang out on.
I still vote for a hamster. lol
Q - I just finished a philosophy class and you're so right. The fact that you can ask endless questions of people that drive them nuts does not make you wise. It makes you annoying.
I think there is merit to some philosophy. The kind Bill Cosby uses. LOL!
That's not so much philosophy than common sense. *LOL* Spoken philosphically....
Cap'n, if you get a hamster...gonna name him Rhino?
In defense of metaphysics...aren't they the same questions we ask and answer in our stories? The meaning of life, the quest for love, the search for God, Goddess, whatever floats your boat.
Science can be so caught up in understanding that they take the apple apart to figure it out. Never really savoring the simple sweetness of it, the subtle character of its shape or the welcome of its color...
Loved Poe. Really awesome... And the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells... He was a great player with sound. Have a parrot in my pirate novel, taught The Raven by my time traveling witch as a joke. Though she changed it to The Parrot... Imagine a parrot shrieking out, "surcese from sorrow" or "rare and radient..." She named him Edgar...
I do love writing such nonsense!
Chance - I really want to read that book. LOL! If Captain got a hamster, she'd name him Harry. :)
Actually if I got a hamster, I'd name him Draco Malfoy, and if you'd read book 4 of the series, you'd know why.
Post a Comment