You Don't Have to Move to a Cabin in the Woods, But You Could

When I taught AP English Language & Composition at the high school level, one of my favorite essays to teach came from Henry David Thoreau's Walden, the famous account of his time apart from the modern world, living in a cabin on Walden Pond. 

(I mean, his mom still brought him sandwiches, because that's what moms do when their kids do weird things like go live in a cabin, "to suck the marrow out of life.")

Thoreau was skeptical of the modern world's impact on humanity, and he wanted to get back to the basics, to what mattered. He criticized technological advancements like the daily news and the railroad expansion. He said we do not ride on the railroad; instead "the railroad rides upon us," as we become reliant on train schedules and cross-country commerce. Thoreau questioned the role of the government and advocated for a less hurried life. 

It was 1854. 

In class, I'd swap out "railroad" for "cell phone," and ask my students if Thoreau might have a point that might still apply to our modern technologies. I'd show a TED talk by two guys who called themselves the Minimalists, and we'd talk about why we think we "need" so much stuff. Usually, the discussion would carry out into the hall with the bell (another item for Thoreau's sharp eye -- "If the bell rings, why should we run?"). 

While Thoreau and his contemporaries, the Transcendentalists, can be too idealist for some people's liking, most of us can relate to the desire to not have regret at the end of our lives. A palliative nurse named Bronnie Ware spent a lot of time with people at the end of their earthly journey. In her book The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, Ware revealed that people tend to say the same things at the end:

1. "I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."

2. "I wish I hadn't worked so hard."

3. "I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings."

4. "I wish I'd stayed in touch with my friends."

5. "I wish I'd let myself be happier." 

All these boil down to what Thoreau was getting at in 1854 -- We don't want to get to the end of what Mary Oliver calls our "one, wild and precious life" and discover that we haven't lived. 

The good news is that we don't have to wait until we are on our deathbeds to reflect on our regrets. Versions of ourselves will die over the years, and probably already have died in your lifetime. Why wait, if we can make a shift toward a more meaningful life now?  We can reflect, maybe even starting with finishing the sentence, "I wish I would . . ." and see what comes up. Next, examine what is keeping you from fulfilling that wish, right now, in your life. What steps might you be able to take toward making that wish become more of a reality and less of a regret?

There is never a better time to start over, to live deliberately.