Now there are reinforced concrete everywhere, and people are crowded. People can't help but speed up the pace. They started walking, as if they were chasing something, and as if they were being chased by something. They forgot how to slow down and stop ... As night fell, the whole city was shrouded in neon lights. The heartbeat of the city seems to be faster and more restless than during the day. People escape from the crowd and throw themselves into another crowd, which seems to make them forget their loneliness. Loneliness seems to be a mistake ...
Thoreau chose to live alone in Walden Lake, built a cabin by the lake, and lived a simple and natural life for two years. This life seems lonely, but isn't it the greatest satisfaction for him who loves nature and the eternal and pure Walden Lake? "I often see the poet leave after enjoying the most precious part of the farm, but the surly farmer thinks he just got a few wild apples." Maybe Thoreau himself was a poet. He knows this farm better than farmers. He knows Walden better than others. He was born for this lake, as eternal as this lake. I envy Thoreau for being brave in pursuing and willing to give up. People appreciate and think that a successful life is just a part of life. Why exaggerate one life and belittle another? I want to say that Thoreau chose the most successful lifestyle in a high-profile and arrogant way when he thought it was appropriate, and lived so vividly. Then he succeeded. And dedicate this book to all readers.
Thoreau lived in an era of rapid industrialization and rapid economic development in the United States. At that time, money worship and hedonism prevailed. In order to get more wealth, everyone kept working and working hard. The pursuit of wealth seems to be the only purpose of life. Hard-working people are crowded with human troubles and heavy work. Day after day, year after year, they have no leisure to live a real life. They are like cold machines, mechanically alive, but mentally blank. Thoreau lived in seclusion in Walden Lake for two years. All he needs is a knife, an axe, a shovel, a cart and some books to enjoy. He farmed and fished by himself, watched the sunrise and sunset, and watched the four seasons change scenery. Compared with the busy people in the city, he is not humble in poverty and even much richer in spirit. Compared with them, Thoreau lived more like a person and more like real life.
"A person's value is not in the skin, you don't need to touch it to know." In Thoreau's eyes, social life is frequent and mediocre. The mediocrity is that many people socialize for the sake of socializing, but people who meet frequently do not get new benefits from it and lack spiritual communication with them. Every time they meet, they just taste their moldy cheese again. We are now in college life, and various social activities are uneven. Instead of taking part in these tasteless social activities in order to expand your contacts, it is better to calm down and read books. After all, how many people in this vast sea of people really know themselves? We make friends and pursue quality, not quantity. Friends who really know themselves and like-minded friends are hard to find. Even if they are thousands of miles away, they can understand you. Even if people who don't know themselves are close at hand, no effort can bring two hearts closer. Even though Thoreau lives alone, he has like-minded friends, books to enjoy, nature he loves, and lives a life he loves, just as Jiang Xun said in Six Lectures on Solitude, "It's like a balloon filled with seemingly nothing, and the whole soul can feel the complete self-sufficiency of life at this time because of its expansion." Take this opportunity to write a wonderful poem: I will never dream of carving a poem. Only by living in Walden Lake can I get close to God and heaven. I am a lake with huge stones, and the wind blowing gently with my head held high is the water and sand in my palm. The deepest part of the lake is in my mind. I saw the same flexible reflection from the lake he described, as if I were there, so beautiful and moving. Forget everything.
In this noisy world, we should learn to get out of the tangled crowd, escape from endless streets, temporarily put down the pursuit of material fame, stroll to the quiet lake, sit quietly, feel the smell of the lake and enjoy its comfort. Even if it rains in Mao Mao on the road, what's wrong with chatting with the lake? What impressed me was not only Thoreau's writing, but also Thoreau's extensive knowledge of nature. He is familiar with every plant and animal and knows how to trim the hut and sow seeds according to the season. He is a hunter, woodcutter, fisherman, craftsman and prophet. As for me, we have given up loneliness, thinking and truth (have I ever pursued truth? )。 Indeed, we can't really let ourselves live in Walden Lake or other barren hills, but if we can open Walden Lake in a quiet night, follow Thoreau's words, let our souls stop by Walden Lake, let our hearts return to nature, get to know fish, insects, birds, animals, spring, summer, autumn and winter, and appreciate the magic and greatness of nature, then even psychosexuality is enough to make people yearn for. This is also the charm of literature. He compared himself to Atlas with the earth and sky on his shoulders, but he carried the earth and sky in spirit. He said that Mount Olympus, the home of the gods, is the ubiquitous appearance of the earth, which not only endows everything in the world with aura, but also blends the gods into nature and human beings. A few memorable poems: the entrance is a pleasant field, among mossy fruit trees, a red stream is trickling, but muskrats are swaying by the water, and fresh trout are swimming around in the water. The most beautiful scenery in nature is a ray of innocent sunshine. Come on, let's enjoy love, come on, let's enjoy hate, and everything will go with the wind. My heart was deeply touched.
I believe Thoreau has a truly interesting and elegant aristocratic temperament, and everything around him is bound to be beneficial to his own cultural accomplishment, such as genius-learning-humor-books-music-philosophy and so on. He never wants readers to follow suit, and he can never use this book as an excuse to escape from reality or a paradise. On the contrary, I think the biggest feeling after reading it is that it has left more space for his life. One summer morning, after the usual washing, I sat in the sunny doorway, on the sofa, in front of the French window, in the shade, on the grass, by the quiet lake and on the open roadside. From sunrise to noon, I read a book and meditated for a while. I was surrounded by loneliness and silence. Only birds sang nearby, or quietly passed by my shoulder, until the afterglow of the sunset filled the sky and I heard voices. I think this is what orientals call thinking and doing nothing! Have the opportunity to read this book again, I believe there will be a deeper understanding and experience! End of the night!