LMT66
Gold Member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2008
- Messages
- 11,035
Nothing wrong with a good long break from "the grind". Get out, recharge and reconnect with a magnificent friend we call Nature!
I like these little parts from the Walden writings (Solitude):
Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war. We meet at the post-office, and at the sociable, and about the fireside every night; we live thick and are in each other's way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect for one another. Certainly less frequency would suffice for all important and hearty communications.
What is the pill which will keep us well, serene, contented? Not my or thy great-grandfather's, but our great-grandmother Nature's universal, vegetable, botanic medicines, by which she has kept herself young always, outlived so many old Parrs (11) in her day, and fed her health with their decaying fatness. For my panacea, instead of one of those quack vials of a mixture dipped from Acheron (12) and the Dead Sea,(13) which come out of those long shallow black-schooner looking wagons which we sometimes see made to carry bottles, let me have a draught of undiluted morning air. Morning air! If men will not drink of this at the fountainhead of the day, why, then, we must even bottle up some and sell it in the shops, for the benefit of those who have lost their subscription ticket to morning time in this world.
Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender, the most innocent and encouraging society may be found in any natural object, even for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man. There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature and has his senses still.
12 years ago, after my divorce, I woke up one morning and looked in the mirror and asked myself who was this person. I was 35 at the time. I never had the opportunity to really reflect on myself for any period of time. I really had no idea who I was, what I enjoyed, how my mind worked or what was important to me. I set on a venture that will likely require the rest of my days to even scratch the surface. It's actually been quite interesting and rather enjoyable. I can laugh at myself now instead of criticize and beat myself up over things.
Looking forward to ordering a few more of your excellent blades when you return.
I like these little parts from the Walden writings (Solitude):
Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war. We meet at the post-office, and at the sociable, and about the fireside every night; we live thick and are in each other's way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect for one another. Certainly less frequency would suffice for all important and hearty communications.
What is the pill which will keep us well, serene, contented? Not my or thy great-grandfather's, but our great-grandmother Nature's universal, vegetable, botanic medicines, by which she has kept herself young always, outlived so many old Parrs (11) in her day, and fed her health with their decaying fatness. For my panacea, instead of one of those quack vials of a mixture dipped from Acheron (12) and the Dead Sea,(13) which come out of those long shallow black-schooner looking wagons which we sometimes see made to carry bottles, let me have a draught of undiluted morning air. Morning air! If men will not drink of this at the fountainhead of the day, why, then, we must even bottle up some and sell it in the shops, for the benefit of those who have lost their subscription ticket to morning time in this world.
Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender, the most innocent and encouraging society may be found in any natural object, even for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man. There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature and has his senses still.
12 years ago, after my divorce, I woke up one morning and looked in the mirror and asked myself who was this person. I was 35 at the time. I never had the opportunity to really reflect on myself for any period of time. I really had no idea who I was, what I enjoyed, how my mind worked or what was important to me. I set on a venture that will likely require the rest of my days to even scratch the surface. It's actually been quite interesting and rather enjoyable. I can laugh at myself now instead of criticize and beat myself up over things.
Looking forward to ordering a few more of your excellent blades when you return.
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