One True Day


Dear Eugene,

What does it mean by a person living his/her true "vocation"?

I've read enough books on the topic to give you more insightful answers, but I will spill my guts for you so beware of the smell: I think it means knowing the best way to live the next day and then go ahead to do just that.

One time, years ago, in a youth fellowship sharing circle, I spoke those exact words (though we weren't talking about "vocation") and tears came down my cheeks.  It was embarrassing, especially when obviously no one else knew what I was crying about.  No one other than me and myself, Alex and his own funny business.  It's ok, they couldn't say, for they knew not what was "not ok" about the situation I portrayed.

I don't think the statement is a good definition for "living one's vocation," but I am not going to revise it.  It is not good enough because, well, to begin with, we are given more than one day in our life.  Even if I were to live today to its absolute best, can I do that again tomorrow?  Tomorrow is not today.  Today is not laundry day and tomorrow will be.  Laundry takes time and attention (and sometimes an argument or two with teenagers who practice strange hygiene).  A weekend is likely going to be lived differently than a weekday.  Monday calls out a distinct mood.  Christmas is December 25 and not any day else.

And all of these are beside the point when we see many who seem to have lived their lives to the fullest not infrequently lived them rather badly.  Rock stars.  Crazy scientists.  Obsessive chess masters.  Compulsive writers.  A door unhinged swings beyond its designated trajectory, fuller than full, opening up new worlds meant to be for that particular life specifically lived.

So, yes, I've given you an answer that stinks.  However, again, I am not going to revise it.  You see, the time when tears came down my cheeks I said also this, that I want to lay my head on my pillow every night--every single night of my life--and say to myself, This past day has been a great one, best possible, and if I don't wake up from this shut-eye tomorrow morning, I'll have no regret.

This is nonsense, of course, and I can supply another twenty reasons why, not least it takes a hundred nights of regret to wake up to one truly visionary morning--what we usually call "learning."  Still, after all these years, I can't quite shake off my youthful naivety.  I still believe in One Fine Day like I do in One True Love.

And I wonder if they are not the same belief.

Yours, Alex

Comments

  1. KateNovember 29, 2018 at 1:15 PM

    Dear Eugene,

    “… We are given more than one day in our life. Even if I were to live today to its absolute best, can I do that again tomorrow? Tomorrow is not today.”

    My phone battery has 33% charge left. That’s about how much time of Today has passed by in truth.

    But that one day true - or more than one - is yet to be known in me. You see, Pastor Pete, I am as pigheaded as a rock but not a rock star, crazy about love & hate all on at once in one though not a crazy scientist, obsessively writing to you for my 3rd day in sequence without qualifying as a writer compulsive to say anything more the day next. And I have not even begun to spill my guts for you, no tears to cleanse my regrets, my pillow savaged nightly devoid of a vocation.

    But I have the guts to do one thing on this fine day: silence.

    “We meet in God, in whom your solitude and mine, your truth and mine, are at last at home. In our failure at the level of word and understanding not everything is lost.” (Rowan Williams, Open to Judgement)

    Now it is tough for me to shut up but if I open my mouth to swallow or spit anything gutsier than what I’ve just received from RW, then I would learn to be more silent in believing One Day Fine to Love One True.

    Yours, Kate

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