There is just as much beauty visible to us in the landscape as we are
prepared to appreciate,— not a grain more. The actual objects which one
person will see from a particular hilltop are just as different from those
which another will see as the persons are different. The scarlet oak must, in
a sense, be in your eye when you go forth. We cannot see anything until we
are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else.
H. D. Thoreau (Journal, November 4,
1858)
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From
July 1845 to September 1847, Thoreau lived in a shed next to a pond a short
walk from the center of a small New England town (Concord, MA; population
in 1850: 2249). After building the shed, he took
long walks and grew beans and read and wrote. His recounting and reflecting
on the unexceptional activities produced a book that still moves and inspires
people, despite the difficulty its nineteenth century style and vocabulary
create for modern readers.
The November 4, 1858, passage from his journal
suggests a way to understand why he was able to do that. He is certainly a
skilled and sophisticated writer, but he is also a skilled seer. The world he
sees is animated by the ideas in his head, but equally important, as can be
seen in the painstaking records he kept of detailed observations of the dynamic
world around him, his ideas were shaped by what he had seen. We live only in
the world we perceive. The power of Thoreau’s vision made his small town the
site of epic human struggles against forces that would belittle and imprison
us.
Groundhog by Clare Dombrowski |
But there are limits to how much our
thinking can transform what we can see. Just as we can assemble Lego blocks
into all sorts of configurations, we can assemble the raw material of our direct
and indirect experience into more than one alternative world. But also just as
the nature of Lego blocks constrains how accurately we can enact our visions, the
nature of our experiences does constrain how far our thoughts can mold those
thoughts before we become delusional. At the other extreme, if our imaginations
are boxed in, we will be able to think only inside the box.
“Inside the box” thinking is also dangerous
because its image reinforces the idea that our mind is inside us and the world
is outside. The situation is more ambiguous than that. The world is not just “out
there” and our minds “in here.” The real world—the rich, multidimensional world
that we actually live in—is balanced between those two places. We can lose our
balance and fall one way or the other, but the challenge means that walking
through a new doorway can be an exciting adventure, or even through an old
doorway as a new person.
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