Thoreau on The Art of Putting Foundations Under Castles in the Air

I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of works.

Henry David Longfellow

I love those words above. Thoreau was a man who saw beauty in almost everything, especially in nature and art. He was also a man who saw beauty in the "conscious endeavor"- the untouched potential of humans to beautify and enhance the lens through which  they viewed the world. The energy we use to create art can be used to change  or create a perspective, to change or beautify the way we think. "The highest works" just requires a "conscious endeavor" ...the use of a very powerful mind most humans do not know they possess. It requires intention, imagination and follow through.

If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost, that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. 

Have you built castles in the air in terms of what you feel called to do or in your dreams and fantasies of all the possible trajectories your life can take? 

I have. I see myself so clearly, at times writing, sharing my work, standing in front of an audience using the speaking and teaching skills I have somehow gained over the years...as if that was where my life was taking me all along. I also have a PhD (for the Philosophy part of Doctor of Philosophy...something that wraps my love for learning, my love for questioning and playing with "thought", all the loose and misdirected learning and studying I have spent my  life doing to this point.... up in a pretty ribboned package.) Those are the castles floating in the air above my head. 

Have I done the work of trying to put foundations under them?  

Maybe I have not done enough work...yet...but I have done some. I write everyday. I have finally streamlined my writing focus, outside of here, to one book that hopefully will lead me to teach about its contents.  I have many years of formal education...as scattered and misdirected as my course accomplishments may be.  I looked and continue to look into programs that will guide me toward a PhD in a cost-effective way. I don't yet know how to get there financially. I know I can write a thesis and a dissertation, no problem, but am not sure of the steps to formalizing that endeavor when I am broker than broke.lol. 

Hmm! I see the castles. I do.  Just not sure how to build the foundations under them.  My mind is saying things like, "You do not have enough money to pay off your existing debt, how are you going to pay for graduate education?"  "You are in your sixties, you will be 102 years old by the time the foundation is built, if it ever gets built." " Like Thoreau, you may never make a cent writing or ever be known until long after you die, if at all." "Whose going to want to hear you, of all people, speak about this woo-woo crap."

I know this is just an echo from a fading away "little me"...a last-ditch attempt for all those old limiting beliefs, left over from the old programming that is losing its power over me, to be heard. Yet, I am obviously still listening because my castles remain foundation less in many ways.

Hmm! But maybe the greatest gift in pursuing this beautifying art of the mind, the power of conscious endeavor, this foundation making, for any of us, is not so much in the achieving of these dreams in some future that never exists, but in the way it affects the quality of our days...now. When I can get beyond the doubts that drag the energy down, I feel myself becoming lighter, lifting up in the direction of the castles. Instead of all the reasons why this isn't possible, I start thinking about the possibilities. I become more energized, more excited, more alive, and the quality of my day changes. Life becomes a little more beautiful than it already is.  That in itself is enough isn't it?

All is well.

Henry David Thoreau (1854 ) Walden-Life in the Woods.  Boston Publishing