"Learning Not To Sweat So Much..."

I discovered anew, among my many "Books I Intend To Read," a copy of Henry David Thoreau's "Walden," which I am trudging through with determined difficulty; laboring to become more at ease and adept at understanding his New England, 19th century style of prose. I thought I was the champion of run-on sentences, but Mr. Thoreau has repeatedly left me scratching my head in confusion when I finally come to the end of one of his disjointed thoughts. Yet the intent of this particular volume rings clear, learning and being comfortable with having and doing less. In a nutshell, reducing one's desires and expectations to the lowest, sustainable denominator, i.e., a simple and uncomplicated life. As I daily grow older, his exhortations for that type of lifestyle beckons me more strongly with each passing day.

My wife Judi is a doer, a list maker, a purpose drive life that must include some measurable end result for every activity in which she elects to become immersed. As nature abhors a vacuum, Judi loathes a free moment that is not replete with a decisive plan to move forward to a greater end. I find no particular fault with this means and method of transversing through life, except when she finds my means and methods of ordering my life to the contrary as unacceptable...

"How can you just sit in front of that computer all day? Can't you find something more constructive to do with your time?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I suppose I could, but I chose not to. I am doing what I deem beneficial to the well-being of my mental and spiritual health. I am reading and writing, because that is and has been my life-long passion."

I think I would have been a soul mate of Mr. Thoreau had I been born in his era, so intent am I in my desire to continue to order my life to its most simplistic elements. And the ever deepening depressing news of our nation's fortunes serves only to further convince me that jousting at heretofore productive windmills that are continuing to be stilled by the downturn of our economy serves no viable purpose. The nation's unemployment rate stands unsteadily at a near historical high, with my home state of Florida reporting 11.8 percent unemployment, and the Tampa Bay area jobless rate is even higher at 12.4 percent. Am I throwing in the towel and giving up? No. I am fortunate enough to have a part-time, on-call position that has thus far kept the majority of the wolves away from our doors. I am determined, however, that I am not going to succumb to the temptation of allowing my BVDs to become all bunched because I am not fully employed. What I have done or what I may again do in the future in the way of employment, if anything, has never ever defined who I am or what I am as a person.

To quote Mr. Thoreau... "In short, I am convinced, both by faith and experience, that to maintain one's self on this earth is not a hardship, but a pastime, if we will live simply and wisely; as the pursuits of the simpler nations are still the sports of the more artificial. It is not necessary that a man should earn his living by the sweat of his brow, unless he sweats easier than I do."

Today I read another chapter in "Walden," wrote a little, and sorted through all of the dozens of t-shirts I have accumulated over the years that Judi has been after me to accomplish. Score: Judi is appeased (for the moment) and I never broke a sweat once.