The Terrible Self

“I think what weakens people most is fear of wasting their strength." - Etty Hillesum

I doubt that I have ever been so uncertain about what I want to “do with my life.”  By this, of course, I mean choosing a career path.  I oscillate between yearning to do everything and being sickeningly uninterested in anything; the pace of my current situation is bewildering, and I often reflect that I don’t even have the time or self-possession to want.  The relationship between my directionless ambling and the waning opportunity for reflection and prayer is obvious. 

Firstly, I’d like to address the rhetorical structure that has us expressing the means by which we cover expenses as what we “do with our lives.”  Part of me hopes my job will never be so defining.  There is so much to a human beyond the work he does.  I resent the work that runs my life, and yet I feel in some way it glorifies me.  There are essential elements that run deep; I wonder how to finesse this paradox.

The other night I heard a man talk about the divine nature of inherited work.  In the creation story in Genesis, our first picture of God pictures a being moving from resting to working.  The Spirit was, and then the Spirit began making.  And boy, did He make.  I won’t rehash the awe inspired in me by the Planet Earth series, but will note that these images (and think how much more revelatory they will become as technology advances) show me much about the character of God.  The intricacies of growth and death, reproduction, relationships, predators and prey, and the seemingly pointless displays of beauty that exceed the comprehensive capacity of the eye and must be taken in by the heart.  There is power and terror, and fragility and delicacy.  The physical world ranges the full spectrum; just as God is simultaneously everything created and was once a microscopic speck of cellular material in Mary’s womb; just as He is a pillar of fire and the still small voice quieter than a whisper.  This work of God’s is a reflection of a character, a personality, a self. 

The first thing Adam was asked to do?  Work.  Name the animals.  Exercise dominion.  Build stuff.  Make stuff.  And Eve?  Not a companion – a helper.  Work gives us the opportunity to participate in the proliferation of the self of God, and it invites us to model our own (comparatively menial, yes) creations after our self.  Oh – I do not want to miss out on this. 

There are a few outliers in my midst whose occupations do indeed contain something essential about their being.  I think of filmmakers I know, stay at home moms, those who serve the underserved, one or two of the doctors I know, maybe a horse trainer I knew once came close, a teacher.  There are some whose careers are characterized by the selfhood of the worker – ah, how I long to be one of these. 

This longing is paralyzing.  I hate the thought of taking a step toward one option that will leave part of my selfhood behind.  One path allows me to analyze but stifles the artist, another indulges creativity but abandons order, one feeds my curiosity but cuts me off from people, another overwhelms my spirit by overcrowding it with personnel and bottom lines.  I refer to Etty Hillesum as listed above: “I think what weakens people most is fear of wasting their strength.”  Weakens?  Destroys. 

This might be rooted in the mystifying human condition I’ve talked about before – a divine, eternal soul stuck inside a deteriorating flesh with only a few fatty brain cells and trembling synaptic cords to try to bring the two together.  I am intimidated by my selfhood.  It has a grandness so far beyond anything I can imagine, and I make myself crazy trying to invent some catchall scenario that will allow this divine selfhood that seems so distant to do a work that will reflect the worker. 

I think I include this quotation in every other post: “For you have created us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you.”  Thank you, St. Augustine.  Tonight I use this to gain perspective on myself not just as a worker but as a work as well.  I was created.  Thus, the image I bear reflects that of my Creator.  And this – THIS is the seal I ache to press into the soft and feeble wax statues I spend my life fussing and worrying about. 

Ayn Rand chimes in, "Why do they always teach us that it's easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves? It's the hardest thing in the world--to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage. I mean, what we really want."  We really want to create with significance.  To contribute.  What we really want, in essence, is to be a part of the great work – to build something that bears the mark of the Creator whose face we wear in a way that does not submit our individuality to erasure but rather shines as a testimony to its magnificence. 

I suppose we’re left with that old instruction: seek ye first the kingdom of God.  Therein the selfhood lies.  There is the work we can do that is actually “what we do with our lives.” 

Etty also offers, “Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.”  Sometimes I suppose that’s true.