“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation”
Now that I’m turning 50 (in a couple of weeks). I think I understand what Thoreau meant by that. Now I know that age has nothing to do with it; at least so much as approaching that age and what (current) society values as relevant and necessary.
In another time, the prospects of becoming fifty, of approaching the milestone would considered a celebration and an accomplishment but not for me , not really anymore. If anything I feel squeezed, tired and just plain old. I am loathing to contemplate my future and prospects.
I know I am dwelling on the negative but as i consider my future and how difficult tangible progress becomes, I help but despair and feel that quiet desperation. Maybe this will pass… I hope it does.