Preface (10:34 PM): The entry below was written after a long day. Apologies for any discrepancies in quality.
5/14/19
Building Summary: This morning I finished assembling the AH Furnico S36-36 Shower Stall. The task consisted of fastening the walls to the base, installing the doors (which themselves required slight assembly), fastening the roof to the top of the whole thing, and extending water hoses from the control valves to the shower head on top* and to the elbow intended for the additional hand shower.
As for afternoon activities, I did not have a long time to dig on Hole #4 for Madre’s container, but I did measure out it’s placement and began the excavation process (ended about two feet deep).
Commentary: Between Jacobhouse activities, working on the family farm, and tending to the furthering of my college education, I was only able to work on my creative writing for an hour and three minutes today. The bit I’m going to write about tonight, however, is the education portion.
Why, if Thoreau – the man who actually found Walden – professed his dislike of the education system, am I going back to college? It’s a good question. I know this because I’ve asked myself the query innumerable times over the past couple months. Though, really, that’s an untruth. I’ve been considering going back for almost two years.
Back at the beginning, I think my motive was to get on the same train as my brother who had recently gone back to school. I didn’t want to ‘get behind’, whatever that means, and as soon as I realized the fact, dispelled the notion so as to continue with my writing instead. Then, there was a brief period where I thought about going to college so I could get into Environmental Management and land myself a job with the government. There was security to be found in such a venture. Security of income, of health, and of a ‘place’ in life.
Fortunately, I read Walden around that time. Between Thoreau’s advice amongst others (Mark Twain and Ayn Rand being a couple of them), I found that security can and often does transform into a trap. A comfortable trap, admittedly, but a trap nonetheless – something that holds one in place, preventing them or cajoling them into inaction through fear of discomfort. And so, I dispelled the notion of going to college once more. If I were to go back, it would have to be on the terms of moving forward – of stepping out of the box rather than finding a way to remain within it.
Now, however, there is a true reason behind my motive of pursuing a bachelor’s degree. As of right now – I’m not saying it will never change – that reason is to teach English abroad or online. The former can yield livable pay while granting me access to nearly the entire globe, and the latter (the one I’m especially interested in) allows me to work for livable income from home… which can also be anywhere on earth where there is an internet connection. As for requirements, the only ones listed for such a job are ‘a natural/native affinity for English‘ and ‘a Bachelor’s degree of any kind‘. The second prerequisite is the reason behind my intent for continuing my formal education this coming autumn**.
Perhaps, one day, without the project of building my own house (though, I do enjoy it) and without the family farm to tend to, I will be able to write creatively for more than 1 hour and three minutes a day. Perhaps… No. Not perhaps. One day soon, there shall be change. Jacobhouse is simply the first step.
“I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one.” – Thoreau, Walden (1846).
Final Note: Tomorrow, I will likely erect the pocket door frame and then continue with my digging of Hole #4.
*The flexible water line I was using did not seem quite long enough, so I drilled a hole through the edge of the stall ‘lid’ and gave it a direct route to its intended destination: the shower head.
**Going for a Public Relations degree that may actually teach me how to improve my social media / SEO skills… and allow for a lot of writing besides.