When I was a sophomore in high school, there was an excerpt from Henry David Thoreau's Walden in my literature book. I was approximately one and a half pages in when I realized that this piddly little excerpt was not going to be enough. Luckily, the library had a copy. I devoured it.
It wasn't like anything I had ever read. In it I saw such truth, such honesty, such wisdom, such beauty. And I fell in love. I was ready to move to a tiny one-room cabin on the shore of Walden Pond. (I'm still ready to move to a tiny one-room cabin on the shore of Walden Pond.) I try, every day, to live as Thoreau-like an existence as I can (I don't always succeed, but I keep trying). I quote Thoreau in my head on a daily basis. Two of my favorite quotes hang in my kitchen as constant reminders. My copy of Walden is filled with highlighted section, penciled-in notes in the margins, and dog-eared pages. I consider Henry David Thoreau to be a guru, of sorts.
I have been dreaming of making a Walden Pilgrimage for years. Three or four months ago, Hubby and I decided to make it happen. Take a vacation. My dream vacation. After all, we had not taken a real vacation (one longer than a half-day's drive away, one where we stayed longer than a long weekend) since our honeymoon, five years ago. Research was done. Hotel reservations made. Excitement built.
And then, three or for weeks ago, I was paying bills. (I could probably end right there. You know what's coming.) It became apparent that trying to pull together your dream vacation in three or four months could cause some financial strain where it didn't need to exist. So, reservations were canceled. Plans were un-made. Excitement turned to sadness.
And it's not forever. We will go. Just not now.
But I just can't stop thinking that it's sucky that money is so important. Such a focal point. Such a driving force. Even if you aren't a particularly materialistic person, you have to worry/think about money far more than I think it's healthy to do. There are lots of reasons, and some of them are totally out of our control. But still, you know?
If Thoreau was here in our world today, what would he say?
And would he let Hubby and me build a cabin next door?