
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them. – Henry David Thoreau (1854)
I encountered Thoreau, as have many others, through his book,
Walden. It came into my hands in my early schooling. Reading it, I fell
to day day-dreaming about the idyllic life I imagined Thoreau had led
as he retreated from society to live beside a pond in the woods. How
many of us have imagined such an existence? How tempting it seems to
run from the noise of the world into a setting filled with bird songs,
the rhythmic lap of a lake kissing the shore, the wide sky as ceiling.
In his extensive ruminations, Thoreau offers his seering insight about
our lives of "quiet desperation." His words often haunt me as I struggle
with my own, periodic sense of loneliness and alienation from a world
where I often feel completely out of place. 
Does "quiet desperation" describe the lives of all thoughtful
people? Do we all secretly feel we are headed to our graves with our song still
trapped within? How about you, as a caregiver? How do you feel?
-Erie Chapman
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