From “Walking” (1851) by Henry David Thoreau

 Nature Break

From “Walking” (1851) by Henry David Thoreau

Summary: Walking in nature is good for you.

Commentary: On the one hand, walking in nature is good for you. On the other, Thoreau is a pretentious hipster, and you should go read George "Nessmuch" Sears instead. He lived around the same time as the transcendentalists, but instead of being a rich guy who went to play in the woods, he's more of an authentic bushcrafter. Better writer, too. Writes in a fun, conversational tone, instead of trying to really make sure he gets the most out of the stuff he picked up in his intro to lit class.

Let's do a pull comparison from early in "Walking" and from Sear's Woodcraft and Camping

Thoreau:

It is true, we are but faint-hearted crusaders, even the walkers, nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the spirit of undying adventure, never to return,—prepared to send back our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again,—if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man; then you are ready for a walk.

Vs Sears:

It is an age of hurry and worry. Anything slower than steam is apt to "get left." Fortunes are quickly made and freely spent. Nearly all busy, hard-worked Americans have an intuitive sense of the need that exists for at least one period of rest and relaxation during each year, and all—or nearly all—are willing to pay liberally, too liberally in fact, for anything that conduces to rest, recreation and sport. I am sorry to say that we mostly get swindled. As an average, the summer outer who goes to forest, lake or stream for health and sport, gets about ten cents' worth for a dollar of outlay. A majority will admit—to themselves at least—that after a month's vacation, they return to work with an inward consciousness of being somewhat disappointed—and beaten. We are free with our money when we have it. We are known throughout the civilized world for our lavishness in paying for our pleasures; but it humiliates us to know we have been beaten, and this is what the most of us know at the end of a summer vacation. To the man of millions it makes little difference. He is able to pay liberally for boats, buckboards and "body service," if he chooses to spend a summer in the North Woods. He has no need to study the questions of lightness and economy in a forest and stream outing. Let his guides take care of him; and unto them and the landlords he will give freely of his substance. 

Thoreau tells us that we're not hard core enough walkers, since we stop sometimes. Sears just wants you to stop overpaying for shitty vacations.

Whenever I read Thoreau, I feel like one of two things is happening. He's peaking at me mid monologue to see if I'm buying his rambles about the nobility of walking (or whatever) or that he's trying to talk himself into buying what he's selling. Sears is much more earnest and trustworthy.

Sears wants you to take some time to enjoy nature in your busy life. Thoreau is convinced if you don't spend your life dedicated to nature (between going home to have your mom do your laundry) you're not even human.