Curtis Klingle

Desperation

I have recently dedicated myself to reading more of the classics. These books have garnered readers from all over the world during their time, as well as many more far into the future from their original date of publication. They have stood the test of time and there are lessons to be learned from within their pages. 

I picked up Henry David Thoreau’s, “Walden” several weeks ago. I knew little of Thoreau or his works prior to opening the book’s cover. As I turned the pages, I quickly became enthralled. At the risk of using an overused adage, I found it difficult to put down. His attacks upon what society deems norms or necessities are excellently presented, illuminating, satirical, and quite often just plain ole humorous.   

For example:

“No man ever stood the lower in my estimation for having a patch in his clothes; yet I am sure that there is greater anxiety, commonly, to have fashionable, or at least clean and unpatched clothes, than to have a sound conscience.”

Since the dawn of time, man has been more concerned over his appearance, how others “see” him, than what should really matter to him, the inward parts, his inner workings. The character and integrity it seems are secondary to that which meets the eye. We all walk about like peacocks, preening and strutting our feathers when we should be investing our energies in our character. In this I detect the malodorous stench of pride.

“Walden” was published in 1854, and it intrigued me that Thoreau had captured man’s mind and his inherent lack of integrity in a single sentence. While I do not align with all of Thoreau’s beliefs, I do feel I have found something of a kindred spirit. He was very vocal with his disdain for society, yet he was not misanthropic. Much of what I read in the first pages of “Walden” captured my attention and resonated within me, but it wasn’t until I came across the following words that I became completely fascinated,     

“The masses of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”   

As those words entered my mind, I could feel them reverberate through my thoughts. I was taken aback. Once the initial shock, for I cannot provide a better description of my reaction to those words had subsided, I began mulling them over, and over again. I could not stop thinking about them or the message they conveyed. For weeks this has gone on, a continuous rapping on the windowpane of my mind.   

“The masses of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” “The masses of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”

Desperation is a strong word and I use it sparingly. In fact, rarely will you find it in my writings. The word connotes to me one of having no hope, all is lost. It is a man standing on a precipice contemplating taking that final step and plummeting into eternity. It evokes in me an intense sadness, and summons empathy and compassion for the one experiencing that state. As I studied this, I found that Thoreau had, like all good authors, chosen this word carefully. Thoreau was stating that most people live lives that are empty and virtually meaningless, a life of “quiet desperation.” Upon receiving that revelation I felt a wave of, yes, despair sweep over me. I find that those words are applicable today.

Now, more so than ever, we “the masses” often go to jobs we do not enjoy, if not hate. Day in and day out, we perform our function with no joy or satisfaction. It is a perfunctory existence, an exercise in the mundane, more like an automaton than a human being. That alone is enough to cause one to despair, for we actually spend more time at our jobs and with coworkers than we do with those we love. In what I believe is a form of revenge against this existence, our quest for happiness turns primarily upon gathering material goods. We seek some weapon against this life as we rail against it. We search for something to placate our disdain and assuage the pain of being unfulfilled. Like the primeval hunter gatherer who sought out his sustenance, we seek out and procure not food, but the latest gadget or toy to satiate the hunger for meaningfulness within each of us. In a cruel paradox, these empty and hollow pursuits only serve to cause us to become more enslaved to the life we really don’t want. The subsequent debt incurred as a result of this materialistic lifestyle further binds us to the jobs we hate, which in turn causes us to want more of the “things” that will make us happy, and the cycle continues perpetually. Thoreau was right, we are wasting our lives.   

I have always felt that there is much more to this life. I have found much of my fulfillment and joy in my children, watching them grow into adulthood and become far more than I ever could be. They have each excelled in the art of loving others and giving of themselves. I have also experienced those rare moments in my chosen profession when I could actually help someone and make a difference in their life. I will further add that since coming to know Jesus Christ, I have also found an even greater fulfillment and with that, the inherent joy that accompanies knowing Him. But even then, I sense there is more to this current life, and I suspect many of my readers do as well. I understand that some of this longing is because I am not made for this world thus, my desire for heaven, my ultimate destination, is always rising to the surface. But I believe that another part of that longing, that need for more is something much closer in proximity, and it is in the here and now.

One of the attributes we share with our Creator is our creativity. There is an intrinsic desire to create, to invent something practical if not aesthetic, to engender a sense of joy within ourselves as well as the beholder. This is also played out in our conquest for the unknown, our desire for exploration, and the pursuit of knowledge. All of these are facets of the compelling creative force alive in each of us. We were meant to take pleasure and find satisfaction in this ability. Think of the times when you built something, wrote a poem, drafted an essay, drew a picture, or landscaped a yard. Was there not a sense of accomplishment? Think of a time you were hiking, kayaking, or on some adventure and you knew not what was around the next turn or over the next hill, and how you felt that fluttering in your chest in anticipation of the next discovery. Conversely, if you want to see a man waste away, restrict his creativity or his freedom.

I do not believe that our Creator intended us to live our lives the way we do, and I have always referred to our current state as, “serving the wheel.” What I mean by that is this seemingly purposeless existence we all seem to exercise, which is what Thoreau was addressing. From what I can discern, the root of this is engrained in each of us. We are, at a young age taught that we must attain certain things in life: a spouse, a home, a vehicle, children, and stuff, lots of stuff. These are the things that will make us happy we are told. These teachings are instilled within us as if they were irrevocable laws. Now, do not get me wrong, I believe all of these except for “the stuff” can be and are good pursuits, but I must question if they are the “best.” It is likely that each of these awaits us at some point in our lives, but we rush the timing, and I think sometimes in our effort to obtain these things in “the wheel” we forsake the best for the good.     

Each generation steps onto the “wheel” by adhering to the instructions conveyed to them by the previous generation. Once upon it, they become enveloped by it. They begin to be transformed into something else, almost something less than human, that word “automaton” comes to mind again. They not only “serve the wheel,” they become part of the “wheel” and then go about evangelizing others and convincing them that the “wheel” is the only way to find happiness and fulfillment. It is a sad existence, one which I know well, for I am at least in part, one of them. I am among the desperate masses, and I sense despair knocking on my door as I admit it. The only escape from the “wheel” is death, and this stark realization opens the door for abject despair. In this state, a man is useless and hopeless, for he cares of nothing and for no one other than himself. He has scaled to that pinnacle of pride known as self-pity.

Throughout history virtually all human beings have suffered this plight, but again, it seems more prevalent in our time.  However, there is one exception, there really is a way out but few open the door, much less walk through it. As for myself, I have opened it countless times, stuck my foot over the threshold and gingerly toed the floor on the other side, but I have rarely crossed over, and when I have, it has only been momentarily. But there is hope, there are those brave individuals who sometimes find freedom from this durance vile. The umbilical cord of the “wheel” is vehemently severed, thus enabling those courageous few to experience the ultimate freedom and be taken into the bosom of Libertas.

I, like many others, am cursed by an overactive romantic nature. I seek out the ideal, the mystical, and I am always in pursuit of the More. I tend to see things differently, to the point of an unwanted separation from others. It has only been within the last few years that this yearning has become somewhat lessoned and I am able to restrain it. However, I really don’t think that is the case, I think the real truth is I have begun to settle for less, maybe even a trifling of apathy has been allowed to creep in. I suspect it is because of this flaw in me that words such as those written by Thoreau, resound with me. What is more, I sense I am not alone, as many of you suffer or are rather, “gifted” in this way.

I have entertained the fantasy of leaving society behind since I was a very young man, not to avoid people, but to be alone in Creation and in the pursuit of God Himself. There were even a couple of times when I stood so close that I could feel the embrace of this “other” world. To be alone in the wild has always been a dream. Some of my most memorable Numinous experiences have been in that sort of setting. If God created this world, then we may logically deduce that we may have encounters with Him when we are immersed in it. I even went so far as to spend several years of my life devoted to learning the skills necessary to accomplish this vision, should I decide to do so. I learned how to make traps utilizing nothing but that which was available in nature plus whatever my wits would permit. I learned how to make shelters, buckskin, pottery, identify which plants were edible, and which of those had medicinal purposes. I honed my land navigation skills to perfection, including those used by the explorers and mountain men of old. I taught myself how to go long periods with little to no sustenance and still maintain the ability to function at optimum conditions. All of these skills and more were placed in my toolbox. I had become a formidable foe of nature and I only lacked one thing: Courage.

As I pondered this, I found that at my core, I too, like the majority of men, am a coward. How shocking this realization is to me, although I am quite sure I have known it for some time. After all, the person who we find the easiest to deceive is ourselves. As I reflect on the previous sentences, I find that maybe it is not entirely my fault. I have been trained and conditioned to “serve the wheel.” However, my recognition that this is so, should serve to inspire me to break the chains and seek my own emancipation from this bondage of lies. I should muster every ounce of strength and arouse my indignation at being entombed along with the rest of humanity in this sepulcher, even if I should have to resort to clawing my way out!     

As I thought about these things I was led to a bit of remembrance. I think all men fell in love with the film “Braveheart” because it exemplified courage and the timeless battle against tyranny, as well as the intrinsic desire of all men (and women) to be free. In an intensely emotional scene, the Scottish patriot, William Wallace is chained in the dungeon awaiting execution by Edward, King of England. Princess Isabelle pleads with Wallace to compromise with the King in order that he may obtain mercy, for it isn’t a quick execution that awaits Wallace, but the “rack and drawing” would be rendered first. Wallace, knowing full well that suffering awaits him responds to the Princess’ plea with an iconic statement that has stuck with me through the years,

Wallace declared, “Every man dies, not every man really lives.”  

Even now those words simultaneously inspire and chill me. In order to really live, there must be a recognition that death is not just possible, but inevitable. We must not only accept this fact but embrace it. This life will end. It is really of no consequence whether we die young or old, life is abruptly cut short for all of us no matter our age, leaving much undone. It is fleeting. Our lives are but tiny sparks in the timeline of creation, but that spark could ignite a fire if we are bold. Because it is a certainty that each of us will someday die, then shouldn’t we have a desire to truly live? I would think that we would take risks in order to really live. Instead, what we do in “serving the wheel” is cast a blinding spell over ourselves inhibiting our ability to see this reality. We face every day as if we are guaranteed tomorrow, or for that matter, the next second. Nothing regarding our longevity is certain. What happens in “serving the wheel” is we come to believe that death is so far in the distance that it becomes illusory, even spectral, something less than real. This is a lie and one of the greatest deceptions. It is a fairy tale sorcery which we all know we must break. This current life, this physical life will most certainly come to an end.

I am not by any means proposing that we should all abandon our jobs and families and move to the woods, but if you have the means and are drawn to that action, then do so. What I am suggesting though is that we take a good look inside, perform some introspection and ascertain whether we are living a life worth living or merely one awaiting death, one “serving the wheel.” Are we peering timidly around each corner of life in fear, or are we acting boldly and courageously?   

As with all problems I face in this life, I look to my greatest example, my Mentor, my Teacher: Jesus. To those who do not know Him, it may appear as whimsical, some mystical illusion or delusion to look to Him. Some may even see it as flippant, lacking all sincerity at resolving a problem. But to those who know Him, to look to Him first is not only natural, but a must.  

One of Jesus’ most profound teachings was in reference to our concerns for tomorrow and can be found in Matthew 6:25-34 and is echoed in Luke 12: 22-32. Jesus did not state that we should have no concern over our wellbeing, which includes sustenance, shelter, clothing, and the care of others. What He was instructing was that when those things become our primary focus, which is through the effects of anxiety or greed, then we have gone astray. When we worry, we separate ourselves from those we love and the things that are important. We are so consumed by our circumstances that we are unable to even listen to another’s concerns. When you study what Jesus was teaching, you find that even the act of worry is sinful. A worrisome attitude is the exhibition of a lack of faith.

Jesus also declared, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10) It is eternal life experienced in the here and now. It is a purposeful and joyous existence. Jesus went on to define what eternal life, the abundant life is, and it can be found in John 17:3: it is to know God. We are repeatedly encouraged that knowing God should be our primary desire in this life. We are told that there are great rewards in knowing Him. If you know God, then you have everything. It has nothing to do with prosperity or the lack thereof. It has nothing to do with my having good health, or living a long life, but everything to do with finding Him.

As I continue to probe this subject what I discovered is that it is the “abundant” life that I am longing for in the here and now. It is a life of love, joy, and peace. What I am discovering is that the more I release myself, my own wants and desires to Him, the more I become my true self and the things I really wanted and desired are coming to fruition. I think often of those first 12 that He called. Some sought Him out, while others were sought out by Him. All of these men had one thing in common: they believed. One’s belief is only notable when one aligns with that which he believes and is transformed by that belief. For instance, if you say you believe in Jesus and are not becoming like Him, or at the very least, putting forth effort to do so, I’d have to doubt whether or not you truly believe.

It is a curious thing this, “serving the wheel.” We often don’t even know we are doing it until it is too late. Many a man or woman has died with regret for not really living. It is only as they lay on their deathbed with one foot in this life and the other in the next that they recognize that they have wasted their life. I remember an interview with an elderly woman I came across years ago. She was asked by the writer interviewing her if she had her life to live over again what she might do differently. The old woman responded, “I would love more. I would laugh more. I would swim a few more streams. I would climb a few more mountains.” With a glint in her eye and a smile on her face, she declared, “I would live.”  

Thoreau’s experiment on Waldon Pond was to prove to himself and others that he did not need to “serve the wheel,” though he did not describe it that way. He spent the majority of those two years alone and in contemplation, which is evident from the book. “Walden” and many other works, which could be classified as secular, often have an undercurrent of the spiritual. Even through these works we can see the path that leads us to God. All things serve Him, whether willingly or unwillingly, all serve His purposes. 

This writing was not meant to discourage, though I sense it may, at least initially. It may bring about a recognition of wasted time and loss, but regret can be a good thing, and if applied correctly, it can enlighten us. Thoreau also said, “To regret deeply is to live afresh.” I can assure you I penned these words laced with benevolence throughout and they were driven by an awakening. It is here in which I challenge each of us to step off of the “wheel,” and that begins with asking ourselves if we are really living. Are we experiencing life abundantly, eternal life in the here and now? My intent has been to open the eyes of the reader, as well as my own, to this life. It is this life in which we touch others. It is this life in which we bless or curse those around us. It is this life in which we can choose to be merely alive,

or choose to truly live.

C. Klingle