ReReading and Virgin Reading All Things Thoreau

I have always had a copy of Walden in my beach bag whenever I go to swim there.  I have done this since at least my early teenage years.  So my most common exposure to the book is as a multimedia piece, designed to be enjoyed after a swim, in the sun, sand between the toes.

Doing research for a play about Henry (and other writers/Transcendentalist who are sneaking into the picture as well)  I am finally getting to "A Week on The Concord & Merrimack Rivers" (1849), which he wrote about a journey (in 1839) with John, his beloved brother who had died (in 1842).

The first thing that catches my eye is the mention of the word "brother".

Where'er thou sail'st who sailed with me,
     Though now thou climbest loftier mounts,
     And fairer rivers dost ascend,
     Be thou my Muse, my Brother--.

The second is "A far Azore".  My mother and her side of the family are from the Azores!!!  They are in the middle of the Atlantic, nobody goes there and it is a series of visual jewels placed on the earth.  

I am bound, I am bound, for a distant shore,
     By a lonely isle, by a far Azore,
     There it is, there it is, the treasure I seek,
     On the barren sands of a desolate creek.

Thoreau does indeed know his world, both near and far.  I am amazed by how much I have learned from him, and have yet to learn.

Walking In Ft Tryon Park, NYC

New York City has a series of parkland near the northern tip. 

I'm lucky to live near 3 areas: 

Ft Washington Park which is part of the path system around the island. It's just down by the river, under the George Washington Bridge and the Little Red Lighthouse.  The Bridge itself is a massive piece of sculpture, and once you are underneath it, the river reveals stunning views to the south (the City) and the North (The Palisades).

Inwood Hill Park: a huge track of land, which includes the site of Peter Minuit's trade of $30 in shells to the Native Americans for the island of Manahatta.  Vast stretches of its paths have become slightly overgrown, or at least returned to an 'unpaved" state.  It's the closest you can easily get to what the island looked like before humans drastically changed the scenery.

Ft Tryon:  A former Rockefeller estate, it became a public park in 1935 and still has gardens designed by Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.  In 1985, after years of deterioration, they were restored to the original plans and contain a marvelously & lovingly sculpted area: The Heather Garden.

You can find out what's in bloom every month, they post it online.  Heather was chosen as the primary planting to save the views of the river.

Today I went on a guided tour with Leslie Day, who is the author of several books including Field Guide to the Natural World of New York.  Amazing how much is there, in terms of variety, history and stories of use of each of the plants.  

New York is paved with cement, but glory is to be found in the many natural spots remaining.

My Philosophy

I suppose one HAS a philosophy whether one realizes it or not.  Setting it out in print makes it seem more formal, and hopefully can offer some disambiguation to one's acquaintances.

My inclination towards friendship involves a person who:

A) Accepts and REJOICES in the differences among people/s

B) Says "Yes", and is willing to try and seek out new experiences

C) Encourages empathy within themselves and others.

For a larger society, I hope and believe in people who:

A) Easily tolerate differences, especially across groups which are strange to them

B) Encourages a variety of approaches based on rational evidence (ie based on experience or emotion or pragmatic reason, rather than blind faith in tradition or stagnation)

C) Disowns the idea of empathy (ie"I can't understand (and won't) why people choose X")

I would rather have people in my circle who are diverse, who say yes and who put themselves in the shoes of a stranger.  I find these aspects will draw out the best in me as well, and the societal pressure will encourage and help me to exist as a more actualized person.

Recently I have noticed a strong visceral reaction in myself to these things, whether it is a friend who says "I cannot imagine why all religious people believe that all atheists are amoral" (and refuses to try to put herself into that line of reasoning to advance to a higher level of argumentation), or someone who professes ignorance loudly about a fact (and will not be moved from her claim to the "fact", despite who it may hurt and despite all evidence that her entire reasoning is faulty (ie a certain people are "going extinct" despite all evidence to the contrary.  Citing the most recent census or trends in numbers provides nothing but a bad interpretation of "damn statistics").  Even TV, Movies, Video Games and mass media are a closed system.  Once you buy into them, you are operating within the judgments of a "mainstream" mindset.  You may reach "higher level" conclusions, but they may be delivered and received as a tagline from a bad joke.  And your philosophy will be delivered to your door like Dominoes.

Diet also seems to be a divisive line.  Food as a moral choice seems to be everywhere.  (Fat shame, carb shame, fest food nation, hyper-local hyper-conscious) Older people, in my experience, who have had limited contact with a variety of foods (fish, vegetables, etc) will assume that pills are needed to help them digest certain varieties or will avoid whole food groups altogether.  

I get indigestion when I hear people proudly proclaiming that they have not tried certain vegetables.  Unless one has a strong suspicion that something is poisonous (like a mushroom) or detrimental to one’s system, everything should be explored, especially at a young age.  

But again, not forced upon people.  I myself have a mild dislike of beer and wine.  Both are tolerable, and if I want alcohol, I’d prefer an Appletini (which will trigger plenty bias alarms out there).  But to categorically state, “I’ve just noticed that people who don’t drink are less fun” is to ignore the work of AA, as well as to deny someone their preferences.

Food biases can be indicative of hesitation in other areas, certainly.  And if one cannot have a meal with another, that is certainly grounds for incompatibility.

Personally, I have found the above issues to trigger visceral reactions within me.  And I am always interested to explore and identify the boundaries of my own biases, as well as define them for others who choose to interact with me.

PS I dislike Philosophy.  (Although I have investigated it in the past and apparently will dive in myself)  When given the choice, I prefer concrete facts (i.e. in exposition).  I beg forgiveness of anyone who believes that I am a hypocrite (which I here admit).  Or if I have offended anyone.  The specifics were for illustrative purposes.  To remind myself of past lessons.

My History

I have grown up with Walden always in my consciousness.

As a kid, I learned how to swim (and how to enjoy swimming and being in the water) there.

I have a memory of the pebbled cement dock that existed on the main beach up through the early 80's.

My Father was a great saunterer through forests, including a woods at the end of our street.  Jericho Hill is a hilly area, its paths leading to many a backdoor and even a farm.  He taught me to walk, to notice, to pay attention and to meander.  He was my first, and probably best, walking companion.  My fondest wish would be to have transcripts of those talks from my childhood.  As with most polished memories, perhaps they are better lost to time.  I have no specific memories, but I do have some photographs.  I remember happiness.

I can date the last walk I took there with my father.  Probably Spring of 1986, or maybe Fall.  It was not swimming season.  They had just open after a renovation in which they had removed the cement dock and created the stone retaining walls around the bathroom building by the main shore.  We never swam there together; he died just before Thanksgiving of that year.

My mother would bring me and my best friends there during the summers.  It is an easy 15 minutes from our house, leaving heavy traffic areas and meandering into farmland and fun landmarks.  A change of mood as much as location.

I made my first lap around the pond with a younger friend at age 12, unannounced and unaccompanied by an adult.  We had one pair of flipflops between us, which we dutifully shared and traded.  We each wore one shoe for a while, then switched off.  When we were about three quarters of the way around the pond, the Walden rescue speedboat asked if we were Anne & Tammy.  The jig was up.

When I first discovered poetry, I convinced my friend Julie to become scribe for me, and I attempted to swim the pond in short laps, near to the shore.  I would compose and shout verses to her and she transcribed my thoughts. I have always done my best work in the middle of the pond.  Again, the results are probably best left to posterity.

I first saw across at the age of 20, or perhaps before.  I had always been a good swimmer, and one day decided to conquer my fear of swimming across the immense distance.  I had few achievable personal goals at the time, and fewer mentors to suggest them.  So I challenged myself.

The clouds began to darken the skies before I got halfway across.  I was terrified of being trapped at the other end of the pond by a thunderstorm or, if I was really slow, a sunset.  I laugh at my naivete now, but I genuinely had little to no sense of time or how easy it would be to return on foot.  (I did have a worried mother, who worried me twice as much)  On my return, the clouds parted and I began singing "Blue Skies" to myself.  Whenever I hear that song, I remember that moment.  When despair seems so close, and then you are saved.