Serendipity

The American Heritage Dictionary on my computer defines serendipity as the “faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.” Serendipity is also the title of a movie starring John Cusack, and the name of the Manhattan café made famous by the film (which Larry and I once tried to get a table at, without success). And serendipity is what happens when you wander into a nondescript little bookstore on Session Road and find a book that is exactly what you need to read at this particular point in your life. On SALE. How’s that for God’s version of an “accident”?

I’m excited to share this book with people who I know are in more or less the same stage of “transition” as myself – I already told a friend with whom I’ve had lengthy, agonizing discussions on purposeful living and can’t wait to get him his copy. While I am usually a little wary of “directional” books written by psychotherapists – this seemed less of the DIY kind, so I made the hundred peso (!!) investment. And I’m sure glad I did.

I spent the whole morning today engrossed in Called By Name (Discovering Your Unique Purpose In Life) by Robert J. Furey. The blurb reassured me that it wasn’t entirely one of those secular self-help manuals: “There is a divine plan for each life, and a sacred trust that the call will be answered.” The first few pages caught my attention and ensnared my entire morning and part of my afternoon – and pretty soon the book was well-underscored and highlighted. The first “lightbulb” moment that made me sit up and really get into my reading was a quote by Andre Gide: “One does not discover new lands without consenting to losing sight of the shore for a very long time.” Reading this in a “new land” made me go “hmmm…”

Furey goes on to say that, in choosing which mountains (hmmm!) to move, we usually have a “difficult time distinguishing between an impulse and a revelation. They can seem so similar, yet they are very different. No one should commit to an impulse. An impulse is a distraction rather than a destiny. It lures one away from a real calling.” A very similar message to what Henri Nouwen “told” me earlier this week: “It is not easy to distinguish between doing what we are called to do and doing what we want to do. Our many wants can easily distract us from our true action.”

It is proposed that to settle the issue of whether a calling is real or not, and unique to one’s self, there are three essential qualities: service, thought, and feelings. Callings involve service to life. Furey says that our talents are only a portion of one’s calling (therefore finding inexcusable the mistake of people getting so caught up in their creative gifts that they turn away from their calling to serve others) and that “the largest part of your vision involves how you will use these gifts. It is never enough to compose or paint or write. These skills must be used for the service of a greater good.” If there is therefore no element of service to life, then one is not being called to travel it.

The second litmus test is the examination by thought: “(a) calling requires rational thought.” Furey sagely advises that a calling is “not something that comes along and sweeps you mindlessly off your feet. You can plan, arrange, and prepare to answer it. You have to think it through. Before you commit, you must decide. Decisions need thought.” Some people out there are mentally giving me high-fives in agreement. “A real calling can withstand scrutiny. It has no cause to deceive you. No calling asks you to accept it blindly.”

Finally, feelings are the final indicator: one must have a passion for the calling. “Of the three dimensions of a calling, service and thought provide direction. Feeling provides the energy and the determination to get there. Feeling also supplies the passion to stay the proper course. It’s the fuel, the fire, the love.”

“When our desire to serve, our thought, and our feelings all come together, we find ourselves doing what’s right. You will not find yourself in your right place until you integrate those three elements.”

I know exactly how that integration feels: my service at He Cares has been characterized for the most part by the melodious orchestration of service, thought, and feelings. I can say, in all honesty, that during this time I've experienced the happiest and most purposeful moments of my life. Then again, after almost two years, and with the shifting dynamics that this kind of service has taken on, came the vital need to assess direction and commitment. I was bothered for a while on this retreat as to whether my calling has changed, or whether I’ve lost the capacity to listen for direction from the One who called, or whether my passion for it has ebbed. But Furey reassures by saying that “the mission may get lost or may change, but there is always a mission nonetheless. They see their challenge as finding and fulfilling their mission.” Charles Garfield posits that “gifted workers” (which I do not claim to be, but only aspire towards becoming) sometimes lose direction and do not always have a mission, “(b)ut when they don’t, they make finding a mission their mission.” So even transition periods of discovery and exploration are, thankfully, in fact productive periods.

To help determine one’s mission or renew one’s vision, Furey tells us that nature and solitude are powerful elements conducive to enlightenment on one’s direction. Those two elements I have much of at the moment, and I appreciate how they’ve served to cast light in the past, so I think I’m in a good place.

Another fascinating proposition that Furey makes is that we receive two different callings: the universal, and the individual. “The universal calling involves contributing to life. We are all called to this…(it) asks us to give things away – our money, our time, our energy…to contribute to the welfare of human beings, animals, and the environment…” But the individual calling “can pose a real challenge,” because “it asks us to make specific choices, choosing one path over another. (It) will not be satisfied through donations to the poor or volunteer work with the needy. Your individual calling asks that you emerge and become your own person. While the universal calling asks for compassion, the individual calling asks for courage.” Aha. Now I think (hmm, I recently had a revealing discussion with Lex about how I say “I think” rather than “I feel”) I’ve arrived at the crux of the matter: while I have heard and responded to my universal calling, my individual calling still requires facing up to. Which is probably why I’m on this “listening retreat.” Hmmmm.

To be continued.