What a long time it can take to become the person one has always been
And, what a wonderful journey it is when we let go of trying to control it
‘Of all ridiculous things the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy — to be a man who is brisk about his food and his work.’ Wrote thirty-year-old Søren Kierkegaard in Either/Or: A Fragment of Life in 1843.
In a later chapter titled “The Unhappiest Man,” the author contemplates how our unhappiness stems from avoiding the present and constantly pursuing unattainable external goals.
‘The unhappy person is one who has his ideal, the content of his life, the fullness of his consciousness, the essence of his being, in some manner outside of himself. The unhappy man is always absent from himself, never present to himself.’
It reminds me of the time I spend on social media. I can’t help but wonder what we’re trying to escape by willingly wasting our most valuable resource - time, and adding to our unhappiness. It’s clear our time on social media is partly due to the addiction of it and partly to avoidance. Avoidance of chores, life admin, having hard discussions, and avoidance of self?
Are we daunted by the challenge of looking inward? Introspection isn’t a sit-in-the-park in my experience. Parker Palmer understands all too well the effort and time required to uncover one’s true self—not the self shaped by parents or society, but the innate self that emerges through natural talents and strengths.
‘What a long time it can take to become the person one has always been.
Today I understand vocation quite differently—not as a goal to be achieved but as a gift to be received. Discovering vocation does not mean scrambling toward some prize just beyond my reach but accepting the treasure of true self I already possess. Vocation does not come from a voice “out there” calling me to become something I am not. It comes from a voice “in here” calling me to be the person I was born to be, to fulfill the original selfhood given me at birth by God.’
I have found this uncovering of self comes as a wisdom in life, a far step from the teen desires to idol and model, even worship and imitate what we are drawn to. The teen years-an important part of our journey-step us out of the childhood need for care, towards self-reliance, done in a way that recognises our need for building our own community. As we imitate and copy we work out what we do and don’t want in our life and in turn we begin the lifelong journey of discovering ourselves. I don’t know if we could become who we have always been so effectively without this early feedback.
‘From the beginning, our lives lay down clues to selfhood and vocation, though the clues may be hard to decode. But trying to interpret them is profoundly worthwhile — especially when we are in our twenties or thirties or forties, feeling profoundly lost, having wandered, or been dragged, far away from our birthright gifts.
Those clues are helpful in counteracting the conventional concept of vocation, which insists that our lives must be driven by “oughts.” As noble as that may sound, we do not find our callings by conforming ourselves to some abstract moral code. We find our callings by claiming authentic selfhood, by being who we are, by dwelling in the world as Zusya rather than straining to be Moses. The deepest vocational question is not “What ought I to do with my life?” It is the more elemental and demanding “Who am I? What is my nature?”’
Palmer reminds us how powerful those clues are when we feel lost or disconnected from our talents, how they can be the guide we need when we feel unsure. This provides an understanding of self and the limitations we are moulded by.
‘Everything in the universe has a nature, which means limits as well as potentials, a truth well known by people who work daily with the things of the world. Making pottery, for example, involves more than telling the clay what to become. The clay presses back on the potter’s hands, telling her what it can and cannot do—and if she fails to listen, the outcome will be both frail and ungainly. Engineering involves more than telling materials what they must do. If the engineer does not honor the nature of the steel or the wood or the stone, his or her failure will go well beyond aesthetics: the bridge or the building will collapse and put human life in peril.
The human self also has a nature, limits as well as potentials. If you seek vocation without understanding the material you are working with, what you build with your life will be ungainly and may well put lives in peril, your own and some of those around you.’
I don’t know if I will ever understand the material I am working with, nor do I think I am meant to in my entirety. How can you ever pin down an evolving being? But, I can listen to my feedback. Over the years, I have learnt to accept the wisdom of a no in the greater scheme of things. I have learnt to go with the flow when the door opens, despite not always knowing where it will take me, sometimes it goes nowhere, and sometimes it goes to new places I hadn’t considered.
Parker finishes profoundly stating, ‘The closest I’ve ever come to answering that question begins with these words from Thomas Merton, quoted earlier in this book: “There is in all visible things … a hidden wholeness.” In the visible world of nature, a great truth is concealed in plain sight.’
Is the meaning of life nothing more than to live it in presence of self? To put down the busyness and enjoy the meal in front of me? To lean in to open doors, accept the closed ones, and help others all the while listening for the inner call which pulls me this way or that?
Walking my path certainly has enough difficulty and opportunity to make it a wholesome journey and listing to myself along the way certainly provides a map challenging enough to keep me busy, fulfilled and full of hope in where I am being led.
These excerpts from Parker Palmer are from his article in Yes Magazine. https://www.yesmagazine.org/issue/working-life/2001/04/01/now-i-become-myself