Self-Imposed Prison

It is more than just seemingly ironic when I study “Self-Reliance” and Thoreau’s “Walden.” We as scholars are encouraged to read, to study, to explore our options by involving ourselves with campus – and then find ourselves with no time to truly explore. We make commitments because commitment is the underbelly of our society, the driving force behind our modern lives.

In many ways, we are lucky. Females in particular used to be unable to study or partake in anything that could potentially damage their reputation and therefore marriage prospects. We had to ask permission from society to express ourselves; now, it is an accepted fact that women study and work, sometimes choosing their career over the traditional family, other times doing both – and making more money than their significant other. All students are fortunate because we have more opportunities available to us than ever; financial aid, study abroad, degrees in all sorts of developing fields, clubs with all sorts of constitutions.

We are also unlucky. So many opportunities lead to confusion and searches for identity. For every person who finds their calling, there are several who remain clueless as to what they should be. It leads to unhappiness and often stagnant lifestyles, leaving a person feeling like they are caught.

Then there are people like me. I wonder what I am doing with my life. I am doing supposedly what I am supposed to do – go to college, get an education, involve myself – but it’s not really bringing me much happiness at times. I hate being idle and so in some ways it saves me, but then, there are many ways that I feel trapped. I want to join new groups, but I cant due to other groups I’m in – and some of them are now my jobs. Often I am exhausted, emotionally and mentally and physically, and I just want to collapse and talk to no one for any period of time. I am continually growing sick of people and their opinions, probably because I’ve met people here who are so arrogant and opinionated that they hate or disparage anybody who disagrees with them or has the nerve to say they are “wrong.” It’s along the lines of, “I’m wrong? No, you’re wrong, by saying that I’m wrong,” thus pervading this sense of always being right.

What idiots, yeah?

But I digress. What I want to bring from this is that reading Emerson’s “Self Reliance” is really pulling at my heart strings. I want to travel everywhere, and I think a large part of it is because I am unhappy and unsure as to who I am. I doubt that going out on my own and living in a cabin, secluded from society, will bring me total happiness, not after how I was raised and what I have continually employed myself with. However, I can’t help but wonder why I am reading Emerson – he gives good advice, but according to him, I am just as capable of being as wise as him if I dare to think and say and write what I wish. I cannot do that if I am always studying other authors; Emerson himself describes a library as a prison for man. In a way he’s right –how often I feel limited, or inadequate, because of other works. Hardly a confidence booster, especially for a burgeoning writer.

I am working on my own life and who I should be. I wonder how I can truly be self-reliant in this society, and how I can become self-aware, when I am constantly trapped by commitment.

I am not happy in this world.