Before I begin, thank you to those who left comments on Part One. Paths, life choices, opportunities; all these topics are too complicated and multifaceted for one blogger to face and define alone. So thanks for letting me see your way of approaching these subjects.
Now, are we ready for part two?
The Book: Traveling with Pomegrantates- a Mother and Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey, and France.
The Character: Ann Kidd (Taylor)
So far in this series on paths we've covered, somewhat, the topic of "choosing" a life path, and we've seen what a difficult work that can be. I'm going to be talking more in this post about the disappointment one feels when our chosen path doesn't end up choosing us. And I'll be talking about the discouragement we may feel before (and during!) a transition to another track.
The setting: Greece. Ann has just graduated from college, studying history. On this postgraduate trip she falls in love with everything Greek; the food, the people, the history, the scenery, the mythology. Suddenly, it occurs to her that this is what she wants to do. She wants to dedicate her graduate studies to Greek history, with the plan of becoming a professor of ancient Greek history.
She feels alight with purpose; everything is falling into place. She applies to her chosen school, a place within the suitable price range that specializes in Greek history. Months later, her world falls apart when she receives a rejection letter. Brokenhearted, she is left pathless and confused.
Months after receiving her rejection letter she is in Greece again with her mother, writer Sue Monk Kidd. Ann feels dismal and the less-than-triumphant return to Greece, the previous focal point of her hopes and dreams, only adds to her depression. But in her depression, she has a lucid moment:
"My mind bounces from one self-recrimination to another, settling finally on the rejection letter, the doorstep where I usually end up with my load of blame and self-loathing. Sometimes, in an attempt to sidestep reality, I binge on memories of how it was before that letter came, and on my daydreams about the life I'd envisioned - silly things like wearing jeans to teach my classes, carrying a brown leather briefcase, updating my passport, planning my next sabbatical to Athens, writing papers on Greece at an antique desk. When I think about those reveries now, though, they seem infused with romance. There is nothing in them about a fervent interest in students, grading stacks of papers, chiseling out lesson plans, or sitting through faculty meetings. I'm not enthused by these facets of the job- the nitty gritty parts- and this sudden revelation both disconcerts and embarrasses me" (81 emphasis added).
This excerpt struck a major chord with me. I enjoy reading Ann's journey so much because I think she's really hit on something here. It's something I like to call "doing over being". I think everyone can admit to wanting to "be" someone or something. When we're young we all dream of being U.S. President, a doctor, author, artist, the next Einstein or Earheart. And when we're young we, like Ann, never think about the nitty gritty work of actually being these people. It's a romance. In fact as we age (if you're me at least), once we find out about the requisites of being such people we abandon it and find something we'd rather be.
I'm beginning to realize how backwards I've always had it. The best career advice Derrick ever got was from a woman who told him to find whatever it was that made him hot under the collar and then work on that. The actual work you want to do will be worth the nitty gritty unpleasant parts. In the book, Ann's mother calls it "finding your necessary fire". Ann says:
"To me, this idea meant finding work with which I had a deep compatability, a true affinity, yet work that also held the possibility to bring me alive.
A fire was ignited in me on that first trip to Greece, but I can't say now that it was the necessary one. . .I admit to myself that if the university called me today and said, Oh, about that letter of rejection it was a big mistake, we want you after all, I doubt I would go. Graduate school has lost most of its combustion, and it's not just the dissapointment that dampened it. I'm beginning to see it differently. When I separated the romance of teaching ancient Greek history from the daily demands of the job, I realized it was never teaching I wanted; it was Greece. I did not have a deep compatibility with teaching, and chances were it would not bring me alive.
Writing. Growing up, it's all I wanted to do. Now I feel the way it pulls at me. Not like a dramatic allurement, but like I've been away from home and have returned to the quiet things I love" (188).
Ann proceeds to work hard at her writing skills, not always thrilling at the exercises, but feeling more alive each time she does them. For her, the doing of the writing is the attraction, not the romantic idea of being a writer per se.
So here I admit that my idea of grabbing at figs willy nilly might actually mean that we're grabbing at romantic ideas of things we think we want. We aren't grabbing the work of something we feel deeply about, we are reaching only for the romanticized false fruit of the "other" life. I tip my hat to Lindsay, my friend and commenter, who remarked that she must weigh figs against what she feels truly is her life's work.
Ann was able to come to the realization of her life's work through failure, rejection, self-honesty, time, travel, her relationship with her mother, an ability to tune in to herself through her dreams and other subconscious communications and finally, WORK. I hope I can be so self-aware.
Like Lindsay, I know for sure that my figs include my relationships, especially with Lissie and Derrick. I know for sure that I want to somehow improve the situation of women in the world. As for how, that will be revealed. In time. Some other shiny and tempting figs might have to be offered on a sacrificial platter or left to turn black and rot on their stem while I figure out the "how". Or maybe those figs will stay there for someone else who is figuring out not who they want to be, but what they truly want to do. Maybe one of those figs is for you.
So what do you think? Do you have any ideas about figuring out the "how" or "what" of your life's work? Have you ever experienced the being vs. doing syndrome? I'd love to hear from you.
Works Cited:
Kidd, Sue Monk, Ann Kidd Taylor. Traveling with Pomegranates. Penguin Books, NY 2009.
Now, are we ready for part two?
The Book: Traveling with Pomegrantates- a Mother and Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey, and France.
The Character: Ann Kidd (Taylor)
So far in this series on paths we've covered, somewhat, the topic of "choosing" a life path, and we've seen what a difficult work that can be. I'm going to be talking more in this post about the disappointment one feels when our chosen path doesn't end up choosing us. And I'll be talking about the discouragement we may feel before (and during!) a transition to another track.
The setting: Greece. Ann has just graduated from college, studying history. On this postgraduate trip she falls in love with everything Greek; the food, the people, the history, the scenery, the mythology. Suddenly, it occurs to her that this is what she wants to do. She wants to dedicate her graduate studies to Greek history, with the plan of becoming a professor of ancient Greek history.
She feels alight with purpose; everything is falling into place. She applies to her chosen school, a place within the suitable price range that specializes in Greek history. Months later, her world falls apart when she receives a rejection letter. Brokenhearted, she is left pathless and confused.
Months after receiving her rejection letter she is in Greece again with her mother, writer Sue Monk Kidd. Ann feels dismal and the less-than-triumphant return to Greece, the previous focal point of her hopes and dreams, only adds to her depression. But in her depression, she has a lucid moment:
"My mind bounces from one self-recrimination to another, settling finally on the rejection letter, the doorstep where I usually end up with my load of blame and self-loathing. Sometimes, in an attempt to sidestep reality, I binge on memories of how it was before that letter came, and on my daydreams about the life I'd envisioned - silly things like wearing jeans to teach my classes, carrying a brown leather briefcase, updating my passport, planning my next sabbatical to Athens, writing papers on Greece at an antique desk. When I think about those reveries now, though, they seem infused with romance. There is nothing in them about a fervent interest in students, grading stacks of papers, chiseling out lesson plans, or sitting through faculty meetings. I'm not enthused by these facets of the job- the nitty gritty parts- and this sudden revelation both disconcerts and embarrasses me" (81 emphasis added).
This excerpt struck a major chord with me. I enjoy reading Ann's journey so much because I think she's really hit on something here. It's something I like to call "doing over being". I think everyone can admit to wanting to "be" someone or something. When we're young we all dream of being U.S. President, a doctor, author, artist, the next Einstein or Earheart. And when we're young we, like Ann, never think about the nitty gritty work of actually being these people. It's a romance. In fact as we age (if you're me at least), once we find out about the requisites of being such people we abandon it and find something we'd rather be.
I'm beginning to realize how backwards I've always had it. The best career advice Derrick ever got was from a woman who told him to find whatever it was that made him hot under the collar and then work on that. The actual work you want to do will be worth the nitty gritty unpleasant parts. In the book, Ann's mother calls it "finding your necessary fire". Ann says:
"To me, this idea meant finding work with which I had a deep compatability, a true affinity, yet work that also held the possibility to bring me alive.
A fire was ignited in me on that first trip to Greece, but I can't say now that it was the necessary one. . .I admit to myself that if the university called me today and said, Oh, about that letter of rejection it was a big mistake, we want you after all, I doubt I would go. Graduate school has lost most of its combustion, and it's not just the dissapointment that dampened it. I'm beginning to see it differently. When I separated the romance of teaching ancient Greek history from the daily demands of the job, I realized it was never teaching I wanted; it was Greece. I did not have a deep compatibility with teaching, and chances were it would not bring me alive.
Writing. Growing up, it's all I wanted to do. Now I feel the way it pulls at me. Not like a dramatic allurement, but like I've been away from home and have returned to the quiet things I love" (188).
Ann proceeds to work hard at her writing skills, not always thrilling at the exercises, but feeling more alive each time she does them. For her, the doing of the writing is the attraction, not the romantic idea of being a writer per se.
So here I admit that my idea of grabbing at figs willy nilly might actually mean that we're grabbing at romantic ideas of things we think we want. We aren't grabbing the work of something we feel deeply about, we are reaching only for the romanticized false fruit of the "other" life. I tip my hat to Lindsay, my friend and commenter, who remarked that she must weigh figs against what she feels truly is her life's work.
Ann was able to come to the realization of her life's work through failure, rejection, self-honesty, time, travel, her relationship with her mother, an ability to tune in to herself through her dreams and other subconscious communications and finally, WORK. I hope I can be so self-aware.
Like Lindsay, I know for sure that my figs include my relationships, especially with Lissie and Derrick. I know for sure that I want to somehow improve the situation of women in the world. As for how, that will be revealed. In time. Some other shiny and tempting figs might have to be offered on a sacrificial platter or left to turn black and rot on their stem while I figure out the "how". Or maybe those figs will stay there for someone else who is figuring out not who they want to be, but what they truly want to do. Maybe one of those figs is for you.
So what do you think? Do you have any ideas about figuring out the "how" or "what" of your life's work? Have you ever experienced the being vs. doing syndrome? I'd love to hear from you.
Works Cited:
Kidd, Sue Monk, Ann Kidd Taylor. Traveling with Pomegranates. Penguin Books, NY 2009.
5 comments:
The being vs. doing topic reminds me of a conversation I had in high school with my best friend, Chelsea (she's my best friend now, but at the time, she was just a classmate -- I should've known when we had this conversation that she was someone I should get to know better!). What she basically said was that she was worried every new stage of life would be like starting to wear makeup. When you're little, you look forward to wearing makeup, look forward to playing around with it and looking beautiful and adventurous and fun with all this lipstick and blush and eyeshadow. And when you first start actually wearing it, it IS fun! But as time goes on, you start to see: makeup is sort of annoying. It's a hassle to put it on every day. It's expensive. It makes you break out or get rashes. You sometimes have to hunt down a favorite product that's been discontinued. You're forever spending money on new brands, new colors, new products that you think will work for you, but ultimately, the fun of what you imagined as a 7-year-old is totally gone, and makeup is a chore.
She worried aloud to me that college would be like makeup, that her career would be like makeup, that marriage and motherhood and grandmotherhood would be like makeup -- more fulfilling in her imagination than in real life.
After reading your thoughts and Kidd's words as well, I'm wondering mostly about whether my own eventual motherhood will be like makeup. Do I just want to BE a mother, moreso than I want to DO the work of parenting? ... Probably. But I also have daydreams about the crappy parts of being a parent, wondering how I'll deal with my kid having a tantrum during Sacrament Meeting or slamming her door immediately after screaming that she hates me. I imagine that stuff along with the picture-perfect moments. Maybe that's a part of knowing when you're on the right track with figuring out your life calling: you see that you're grounded enough to remember the boringness and frustrating stuff of that calling. Maybe that's a clue that you're ready to take the leap.
Being vs. doing has come up a lot in my life. Since I have so many interests (and couldn't make up my mind half the time). For instance- I absolutely love both the idea of archaeology and forensics. However when you get down to the nitty-gritty, I think I would hate both those jobs. It is kind of a shattering awakening- you take an archaeology class and realize how controversial half the work and policies are, and that you will be getting paid to remove items into storage that might not ever be seen in public, and then you don't know how whether to love the preservation or view it as a shame removing something from it's original organic environment. As far as forensics goes- I don't think I would enjoy all the calculating and laws that go along with it either.
I guess what I am saying is I have had a lot of disappointing "Aha- this isn't as great as it's made out to be" moments. I think it is important though- because once you go through that you can find something you truly enjoy. I really enjoyed both this post and the previous one. The 20's is definitely a fragile hard time in the modern day. There are times I viewed this perfect life of only being happy as a "wife" at a young age- I am so glad that didn't play out, because I almost know for certain I would be miserable by now. It's just not the "path" in life I am meant to follow just yet- even though my 18 yr old brain was totally convinced otherwise (what can I say- I lived in Provo, hah). I believe if you study/pursue what you love and have passion about it you will be successful. I find it remarkable the amount of both positive and negative reactions I get when talking about my degree for language/culture. Whenever I am on the receiving end of a negative comment I just remind myself of this quote:
"Faith is taking the first step- even when you don't see the whole staircase."
-Martin Luther King Jr.-
So screw what other people think- who cares- if you are happy, who bloody well cares what you plan to do. More strong women need to follow their passions in life!
Wow, sorry, hope this wasn't a totally self-centered rambling. Hope the Big Apple treats you well!
I'm famous! I'm like totally famous! This is awesome. But seriously, I'm famous. But seriously, seriously, I like the being vs. doing paradigm you bring up. I remember when I moved to D.C. to start my year of Americorps service, I was all, "I'm just going to do this little thing called CHANGING THE FREAKING WORLD!" And I was working with these different non-profits and feeling like it was important work, but...maybe for someone else. Because I couldn't stop thinking about this little internship I did where I mostly spent about 8 hours a day writing letters to incarcerated individuals. That letter-writing didn't really help those men/women in an instrumental way (although some of them wrote me back to thank me for responding at all) and it didn't change the world at all. But I loved it. So, so much. I loved that I got a letter from a brutal rapist and murderer who told me way too many horrific details and I still had to figure out what to say to him, to show respect, to try and care about someone who had done something terrible. I'm getting carried away now, but what I wanted to BE was someone who changed the world, but what I loved DOING was trying to care about people who are/feel discarded and rejected, one little gesture at a time.
This life's work refining process probably never ends. I mean, here I thought incarceration was where it was at for me, and all of the sudden, I'm steeped in foster care and adoption research. There's change and continuity there.
I'm excited to continue to follow your journey!
Not self-centered at all! I really enjoyed reading your thoughts.
I think you're really on to something there, Sara. When I can accept the ugly parts, but see ways in which I personally feel the good outweighs the bad...I think that's a good sign. For me a lot of times, I confess, I feel like things I'm meant to DO are out of my control. In the words of an amazing woman, "Character is destiny."
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