“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately…” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden; Or, Life in the Woods
I went to the bathroom because I wished to live deliberately, to sit on the toilet while doing the New York Times Spelling Bee puzzle, and see if I could learn the solution, and not, when I came to die—probably one week from now, smothered by a LEGO avalanche—discover that I had not lived. I would have liked to go to the woods instead, but I didn’t have a babysitter.
When I wrote these words, I lived alone, in the bathroom, three to ten feet from any family member, in a house of solitude which I had built myself, by locking the door, with the labor of my hands only, as well as one of my feet, which I used to gently force my clinging toddler out of the doorway without pinching any fingies.
The mass of men and women lead lives of quiet desperation because they are trying very, very hard to do Gentle Parenting and not yell at their children.