Just now leaving a day trip to Walden Pond with my daughter's youth group. The pond, which some communities would even call a lake, is still a scene of natural beauty, albeit preserved for the tourist trade. It's still possible to feel a reverent peace and nourishing stillness at the site of Thoreau's cabin.

Yet the distance from his quest to distill life to the essence was only magnified by my intrusive modern habits. While I hiked to the memorial on the other side of the pond, my daughter chose to swim there with some friends... a pretty far way. I was so proud that she made it with confidence that I texted my wife right away. Then, because my phone was at hand, I checked and noticed a critical email from my customer. After hiking back to the picnic area at our starting point, naturally I took time to tap out a response and loop in some colleagues on the issue.

Shortly after, I felt I'd almost missed the point of coming to Walden. That I'd even let myself down to a degree. Couldn't I even shut out the flow of information and intrusions for a mere two hours to meditate on this humanist landmark, when Thoreau had done it for two years? I told myself I needed the phone on to keep in contact with the other chaperones of our large group... a safety issue. But I realized that without an effort of will, I would have had my safety blanket with me and on. (hmmm, two sentences saying device=safety).

Is this a bad thing? From one perspective, it's no more than a pocket-notebook to work out one's thoughts. But from another view, it's a chain to the unending bustle of life. I think I need some guidelines to manage this second aspect, to preserve that part of sanity that depends on solitude.

Mark Arend
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