"The mass of men live lives of quiet desperation." Henry David Thoreau
After watching Dead Poets Society
over the weekend and hearing Thoreau's quote, I cannot get it out of my head. The weight of its truthfulness is bearing down on me. I think I am living a life of quiet desperation, the grand ambitions of youth replaced by "the resignation that living brings" to quote Jackson Browne's "Before the Deluge
." I think resignation and desperation go hand-in-hand. Desperation is the feeling. Resignation is one of its sources. Maybe most us reach that place where we resign ourselves to making a living because our families need us to do that. We step aside and let the next generation have their shot at life. "Happily ever after fails, we've been poisoned by these fairy tales" (Don Henley, End of the Innocence
). Life never delivers what it promises, and this hollow ringing sound of resignation is even found among the famous and the successful who have "made it," whatever that means. We are all searching for significance and meaning, but it is elusive.
I get up in the morning and go to a job where I "meet expectations." (Yes, I recently had a performance review.) The job is a pretty good job, but not the one I was of thinking years ago when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. The current job I have in my company will last about two more months, and then I am uncertain what will happen next. I have been working for the same company for nearly fourteen years. I was once an idealistic young pastor who took a job working for "the man" to make ends meet. Now, fourteen years later, the wide-eyed idealism of youth is gone and I think I remember the day it left, the day it dissipated into thin air and resignation entered my being. Sometimes it feel as if the resignation lifts or at least lightens a bit when I go walk in the woods and pray. Maybe this is what Thoreau was escaping when he moved to the woods near Walden Pond. Maybe he was searching for transcendence among the lilies of the field. I think he was on to something because something happens inside of me when I walk in the woods. Beholding beauty can lift a man above the desperation. But resignation seems to have been an ever-present part of my life since I reached my mid-30s and realized my options were diminishing because I now have responsibilities: people who are depending on me, who need to eat, who keep growing out of their clothes, who don't want to stay home and save money like I do. This is all the stuff that is the fine print of life we somehow don't take the time to read when we are starting out. It does not mean I would do anything differently; I just did not know it would bother me so much. Life becomes filled with the things a man has to do to just to get by. Quiet desperation sets in.
I wish I could turn desperation inside out and use it for my benefit. There's this James Taylor song called "Walking Man
" that I am almost certain was based on Thoreau's "desperation" quote:
"Moving in silent desperation . . ."
Same sentiment that the masses feel, but hold on. The song goes on to say something a little odd:
" . . . keeping an eye on the holy land."
Is this Taylor trying to say something religious, something about faith? That despite our desperation, we can keep on going if we keep our eyes on those things that last. I don't know, but the song also just keeps saying over and over that the "walking man walks." He just keeps on walking, putting one foot in front of the other. And this is what I'm doing. I just keep on walking, not knowing if this desperation will end or if some opportunity to fulfill a higher purpose will come along or what. Maybe this desperation is self-inflicted unnecessarily. Maybe a man taking care of his family, making ends meet, is not such a bad thing. Maybe it's all of this me-centered, Joel Osteen
Super-Christian stuff about "Enlarging my vision" and all of that this is creating this desperation. (I'll admit that I've never read one Joel Osteen book or lasted through listening to one of his sermons all the way through, but I can feel his influence circling all around me!) Maybe the consistency of just being there, of doing what must be done even though it is not glamorous or would qualify as "My Best Life Now
" is actually what we are supposed to do. The walking man walks.
I remember reading last year about Isaac, the son of Abraham the patriarch. Isaac led a rather quiet life compared to his adventurous, pioneering father and his conflicted sons Jacob and Esau. Isaac was given a wife, had children, made some of the same mistakes his father made, but ultimately kept the faith. Yet he is overshadowed by Abraham and Jacob, even though his name is there with the big three, as in when the Bible refers to "the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." Oh, he is the son of promise to Abraham and Sara, but that story is mostly about them, not him. He was almost sacrificed by his father, but that story is also more about Abraham than Isaac. Yes, he is even the victim of the birthright switch pulled off by Rebekah his wife and Jacob his youngest son. Isaac is there in all the stories, but is always the passive one, the nominee for best actor in a supporting role, never the main character. He mostly lived a quiet life, not distinguishing himself by greatness but by getting the job done, keeping the faith alive in his family. Not everyone gets to be a pioneer. Some people just need to quietly stay the course. The walking man walks. Sometimes it feels like desperation, but just keep on walking anyway.
After watching Dead Poets Society
over the weekend and hearing Thoreau's quote, I cannot get it out of my head. The weight of its truthfulness is bearing down on me. I think I am living a life of quiet desperation, the grand ambitions of youth replaced by "the resignation that living brings" to quote Jackson Browne's "Before the Deluge." I think resignation and desperation go hand-in-hand. Desperation is the feeling. Resignation is one of its sources. Maybe most us reach that place where we resign ourselves to making a living because our families need us to do that. We step aside and let the next generation have their shot at life. "Happily ever after fails, we've been poisoned by these fairy tales" (Don Henley, End of the Innocence). Life never delivers what it promises, and this hollow ringing sound of resignation is even found among the famous and the successful who have "made it," whatever that means. We are all searching for significance and meaning, but it is elusive.I get up in the morning and go to a job where I "meet expectations." (Yes, I recently had a performance review.) The job is a pretty good job, but not the one I was of thinking years ago when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. The current job I have in my company will last about two more months, and then I am uncertain what will happen next. I have been working for the same company for nearly fourteen years. I was once an idealistic young pastor who took a job working for "the man" to make ends meet. Now, fourteen years later, the wide-eyed idealism of youth is gone and I think I remember the day it left, the day it dissipated into thin air and resignation entered my being. Sometimes it feel as if the resignation lifts or at least lightens a bit when I go walk in the woods and pray. Maybe this is what Thoreau was escaping when he moved to the woods near Walden Pond. Maybe he was searching for transcendence among the lilies of the field. I think he was on to something because something happens inside of me when I walk in the woods. Beholding beauty can lift a man above the desperation. But resignation seems to have been an ever-present part of my life since I reached my mid-30s and realized my options were diminishing because I now have responsibilities: people who are depending on me, who need to eat, who keep growing out of their clothes, who don't want to stay home and save money like I do. This is all the stuff that is the fine print of life we somehow don't take the time to read when we are starting out. It does not mean I would do anything differently; I just did not know it would bother me so much. Life becomes filled with the things a man has to do to just to get by. Quiet desperation sets in.
I wish I could turn desperation inside out and use it for my benefit. There's this James Taylor song called "Walking Man
" that I am almost certain was based on Thoreau's "desperation" quote:"Moving in silent desperation . . ."
Same sentiment that the masses feel, but hold on. The song goes on to say something a little odd:
" . . . keeping an eye on the holy land."
Is this Taylor trying to say something religious, something about faith? That despite our desperation, we can keep on going if we keep our eyes on those things that last. I don't know, but the song also just keeps saying over and over that the "walking man walks." He just keeps on walking, putting one foot in front of the other. And this is what I'm doing. I just keep on walking, not knowing if this desperation will end or if some opportunity to fulfill a higher purpose will come along or what. Maybe this desperation is self-inflicted unnecessarily. Maybe a man taking care of his family, making ends meet, is not such a bad thing. Maybe it's all of this me-centered, Joel Osteen
Super-Christian stuff about "Enlarging my vision" and all of that this is creating this desperation. (I'll admit that I've never read one Joel Osteen book or lasted through listening to one of his sermons all the way through, but I can feel his influence circling all around me!) Maybe the consistency of just being there, of doing what must be done even though it is not glamorous or would qualify as "My Best Life Now" is actually what we are supposed to do. The walking man walks.I remember reading last year about Isaac, the son of Abraham the patriarch. Isaac led a rather quiet life compared to his adventurous, pioneering father and his conflicted sons Jacob and Esau. Isaac was given a wife, had children, made some of the same mistakes his father made, but ultimately kept the faith. Yet he is overshadowed by Abraham and Jacob, even though his name is there with the big three, as in when the Bible refers to "the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." Oh, he is the son of promise to Abraham and Sara, but that story is mostly about them, not him. He was almost sacrificed by his father, but that story is also more about Abraham than Isaac. Yes, he is even the victim of the birthright switch pulled off by Rebekah his wife and Jacob his youngest son. Isaac is there in all the stories, but is always the passive one, the nominee for best actor in a supporting role, never the main character. He mostly lived a quiet life, not distinguishing himself by greatness but by getting the job done, keeping the faith alive in his family. Not everyone gets to be a pioneer. Some people just need to quietly stay the course. The walking man walks. Sometimes it feels like desperation, but just keep on walking anyway.