What I Lived For Meaning

On July 4, 1845, Thoreau declared his own independence from society and material ties by moving into his self-constructed hut abutting Walden Pond. Thoreau states in “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” that he has long considered of buying a farm in the Concord countryside, but a fortunate turn of event prevented him from purchasing a farm that would inevitably tie him down financially and complicate his life. Owning a farm was unnecessary, since those of real value was obtainable without cost. Freed from the shackles of the frivolities of civilized life and vacancy of economic concerns, Thoreau blissfully experiences summer mornings as “birds sang around or flitted noiseless though the house” (91). From observing a different tune, the “dark

To simplify life further, Thoreau emphasizes the importance of solitude by choosing nature and books over people. The company of nature surpasses human company because solely nature is capable of revitalizing his inner self. It is a "perennial source of life" (109), a medium through which one can connect in harmony with the spiritual world. Incapable of offering him an equivalent feeling of wholeness, Thoreau as a result found human company, often a hindrance to self-discovery, inferior to nature. "Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand…Simplify, simplify" (74). By pushing aside all of the trifles of life, one is able to seek out the real truths of

He proposes that men read classical texts because "in dealing with truth we are immortal” (81), and that they tend their own gardens, or selves, while denouncing the impractical human companionship. In Chapter 2, Thoreau mentioned that he has always cultivated a garden. With the bean-field representing his inner state, he explains that the product of one’s toil feels more rewarding, that the "true husbandman" who approaches this art with a spiritual harvest of fulfillment, contentment, and tranquility in mind, "will cease from anxiety" (136). On the other hand, Thoreau states in “Economy” that ancestral inheritance (customs, property, and money) is the root of man's present predicament and hinders spiritual growth, but "books are the treasured wealth of the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations" (84). He notes that when his “hoe tinkled against the stones, that music echoed to the woods and the sky, and was an accompaniment to my labour which yielded an instant and immeasurable crop” (130). The harvested "crop" is directly and completely united with nature, and thus the divine. In reaching enlightenment, Thoreau’s self is no longer a separate entity from nature; all is one. “It was no longer beans that [he] hoed,” a separate unit, “nor [he] that hoed beans" (130). The