You have to start somewhere:
Sunday: An Illustrated (mini)Memoir
October 17, 2010ordered chaos
October 17, 2010The contents of my desk this morning, though not contained anywhere:
- Nineteen books
- Two magazines
- One book of sheet music
- Seven journals (five filled, two in progress)
- Four blank journals (waiting their turn)
- Five spiral notebooks
- Two coloring books
- Three sketch books
- Three peanut butter jars filled with pencils, pens & a hawk’s feather
- Four baseballs and two hockey pucks
- Rocks, a starfish, paperweights, paper clips
- One digital recorder
- One digital camera
- Two Mary Chapin Carpenter CDs
- One bowl of frosted flakes
- One mug of coffee
I think about the books alone. There are five for reference; Oxford Pocket American Dictionary, Oxford Pocket American Thesaurus, Wood’s Unabridged Rhyming Dictionary, Merriam-Webster’s Pocket Rhyming Dictionary and a Dictionary of Folksy, Regional and Rural Sayings. (Note how three of the five are “pocket” sized, though only one actually fits into my pocket.)
There are three memoirs, two of these illustrated. There are two on creativity, along with a file folder filled with journal articles on the same subject. There are five works by Adrienne Rich, to be read only in small snippets so as not to be overtaken by the deep complexity of her mind. And there is one – ONE – novel. I keep saying I’m going to improve on this lack of fiction reading. This copy of “The English Patient” that I got for a quarter at the Friends of Worcester Public Library’s bookstore yesterday represents my latest attempt.
I imagine the number of words these books alone contain. I look across the room at an overflowing (though well-categorized, librarian) bookshelf, at a jam-packed book cart, at a couple of titles peeking out of my bag and one on my drafting table. I wonder how high the tower of words might be if they were stacked one on top of another. My own Tower of Babel.
But amazingly, they’re not babel at all. Amazingly, the authors behind each took a rather large stack of words and put them in order, some kind of order to tell some kind of story. It is a talent that I admire. It is a talent that I try to hone in myself. I fear I lack the discipline to ever succeed in ordering enough that they appear bound and resting on my desk. But I still imagine it. One should never give up on dreams.
Facing Facts
September 15, 2010I read a quote on someone’s Facebook page today that was a good reminder to me. I thought I’d write something here now as a way of reminding in the future.
“Face the facts of being what you are, for that is what changes what you are.”
Soren Kierkegaard
When I was a struggling Philosophy major in college, Kierkegaard was always a favorite, if for no other reason than his writing made some sense to me. The same rings true today. I do happen to understand a few other philosophers better in my later 40s than I did in my late teens and early 20s, but he is still often the clearest.
I’ve been having a difficult time at work over the past couple of months, much of it involving a sense of feeling misunderstood. After a sit-down with my library director earlier this week, I’ve started thinking a bit differently about why and where those feelings come from. Maybe it’s part of facing the facts of being who and what I am.
Following college, feeling a sense of calling to the ministry, I went to seminary. I’ve always associated this call with a vocation. I’ve always associated the concept of a “calling” with vocation, in general. But lately, I’m revisiting that belief. Maybe what we’re really called to is to be ourselves.
I think there are many different ways of looking at and approaching the world, but two strike me most lately. There are many people who look at the world and see its obstacles and its challenges and its facts, and they sit down and plan how best to maneuver within and around those obstacles so that they can get to the place they want to be. This, to them, is achievement. There are others, though, who look at the world and see its obstacles and challenges and facts, and they say, “Something is wrong here. Something needs to be done to change these things.” I don’t judge either one of these as better than the other, I just see them as two different possibilities.
I am of the latter type and the more I think of that calling to what I believed was a vocation, now I think it was more a recognition of that fact. I see the world, I see my work, and I see my community as something with a bunch of things that need to be changed. I see myself in the same way. I am constantly in need of change. To paraphrase that theologian who made sense to me, too, you figure out what you can change and you change it (Reinhold Niebuhr). You accept a lot of things in life, but for those that you believe you can change, you try to do just that.
So now I’m thinking about myself and my work. I’m thinking about facing the fact that my calling isn’t necessarily about a job or a career, but it is about being someone who will always be drawn to the need to speak up and do something about those things that are unjust or unfair or simply don’t fit into my understanding of a just and fair world. And now that I’ve begun to face that fact, maybe I’m better equipped to make some decisions and to accept the changes that these facts mean for me.





Posted by salgore 
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