Dillard's pilgrimage to Tinker Creek comes from a desire to keep what Thoreau called "a meteorological journal of the mind." Thoreau hoped that by cataloguing the visible, he could understand the invisible. It's the kind of quiet contemplation that leads to enlightenment or a nervous breakdown, and Dillard has a little of both in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. By the time she starts shoving mantis egg sacs into her pockets, we're a little worried about her, but we suppose accidentally hatching some bugs in your pants is better than becoming a nihilist.
Questions About Life, Consciousness, and Existence
- Is ignorance really bliss? Are frogs and fish and fireflies more content than humans because they lack human consciousness?
- How do you stop your brain from, as Annie says, "talking too much?"
- Does an active imagination keep you from observing what's around you? Is it possible to daydream and observe at the same time?
Chew on This
Functional fixedness leads to stupid rules, and becoming unfixed allows us to break them. Activists are unfixed people (in a good way).
Seeing—the kind that Dillard talks about—fundamentally changes consciousness.