I wonder how far Thoreau would get to his year in Walden Pond in our culture. Could he get permission? Afford the taxes? Would he go on such an arduous trip without health insurance? How many people would call the police on a single man living alone in a hut by the water, swimming naked in the pond?  Would he be able to pay the mortgage? Save for retirement? Risk his kid’s college tuition? Afford his cable, computer, cell phone,  satellite and Internet costs? His Storm Center warning fees? Would he need liability insurance to sit in that little cabin? Would his lawyer approve? And what about the blood pressure medication I am certain he would need, from reading his works? The blood work and scans to make sure he was healthy enough to be outside in the cold?  Would his corporate publisher every go for such a boring story  as “Walden- a man sitting and meditating for hours, eating uncooked and undoubtedly dangerous foods?

Would he be a hero of the Left? Or of the Right? Or would he offend both? And would he accept either?  Thoreau wrote that we must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid but by an infinite expectation of the dawn. Now, at long last, I know what that brave man meant. Our society preaches mechanical aid – experts, savings,  warnings, doctors, lawyers, politicians, regulators – all telling us what we ought or ought not to. Thoreau preached a life – and death – with dignity, and that is what I want. A self-determined life. A simple life. A life connected to love, the natural world, the animal world. A creative life, where I am free to pursue my light. I want the same kind of death. I recall that my grandparents died in dignity – in their own homes, surrounded by their families, with no surgeries, medications, artificial parts. Perhaps they did not live as long as doctors tell us we can live today, but it seemed to be they died better than many people die. Perhaps a good trade-off for me.

But it’s more important to see how I want to live than how I want to die. I will not live watching the angry people on the news. Or structuring my life around pills and procedures and doctors and lawyers. I remind myself every day to re-aweken and to keep myself awake, not by being safe or careful but an infinite expectation that every day can bring what I wish, what I need, what I choose. I think, for me, that is a life lived in dignity.