|
Post by firefolk on Nov 4, 2009 13:27:29 GMT -5
Hell, Kate, don't apologize for stirring up emotion. If we didn't feel everything more strongly than is altogether safe for our mental health, we'd none of us be creative artists. But I haven't perceived that anyone's been offended--as long as nobody minds my tendency to cuss. I must confess it has crossed my mind (and, again, I'm a dude so it's intrinsic to me not to know what I'm talking about) that all mothers, simply qua mothers, partake more fully in the divine creative act than any writer or artist can ever do. Not that the man doesn't contribute, of course, but--well--it seems to me that the respective levels of contribution are somewhere on the scale of some guy saying, "Hey, you should make a scary story!" and Mary Shelley writing Frankenstein. The story might not have happened without the guy, but the lady still did most of the heavy lifting. I don't know how it looks from your angle--probably a good deal less awe-striking and mystical, since you're on the inside of the thing; I suppose if you're an actual black-smith, you don't quite see yourself as the mythic hammer-wielder standing in the heart of the blaze and the swirl of the iron furnace-sparks (as an outsider sees you), since you're focused not on yourself but on bringing something new into the world. There's probably some kind of a moral in there somewhere, but morals are only fun when they come at the end of a Groo the Wanderer comic. Oh, and hey, Meredith, I really liked your point about the particularity of vocation. As for writer's block--I'm a profoundly convinced believer in not offering advice on such matters, since the techniques that work for one writer are almost inherently bound not to work for another (I went through a phase in high school of reading "how to write" books until I realized that the people who wrote them were morons: "Always write first thing in the morning"; "Always write on a full stomach"; "Always write while listening to Mozart"; "Always work on two different projects at once"). My only comment is that it's probably not a good idea to worry much about the degree to which the work comes from the Holy Spirit as opposed as coming from within oneself; craftsmanship and grace are both necessary, and only God needs to know the exact proportion of Scotch to soda, as it were (and, er--I'm not sure if grace represents soda or Scotch in this metaphor). Most likely it's better just to do the work and try to be thankful when it comes out well, and not too pissy when it doesn't. I usually succeed at the first part.
|
|
|
Post by immortaldiamond on Dec 11, 2009 0:21:23 GMT -5
Hi, I'm sorry if it seems that I am butting in on a discussion that is already closed/resolved. But I feel that I have to say something about the call to single life. As it mentions here: www.catholicnewsagency.com/column.php?n=145single life can be a Vocation. It is a Vocation, as much as Marriage or Religious life. I mean, why would the Church allow consecrated virgins who are not part of a religious community, unless it was a true Vocation? However, I agree with Mr. Buono that it is a "rare" Vocation. At least, in the sense that "single" people are not always called to single life. In my mind, what it boils down to is that the only real Vocation is Love. (yes, St. Therese is my patron saint!) The call to Holiness is universal. I mean, if your vocation is to marriage, you should get married as soon as possible, right? Because if that is what God wants you to do, you should start right away! Get married at 14! But hey, marriage is not the ultimate goal of this person's life here on earth. The real purpose is to come closer to God, and bring others to Him. So are we frail human beings in any way qualified to limit God to allow only marriage or religious life? I don't mean to contradict Church teaching here--indeed, I am really only trying to get at the heart of the teaching, rather than only following the letter of the law, and not the spirit. Please guide me back on to the right path if my weak human brain has led me astray yet again... So what am I really trying to say? Basically, that, although I agree that marriage and religious life are the "main" vocations, we can not limit God. I mean, look at all the "exceptions" to this "rule"! All the single saints! All the early Christians who were consecrated virgins! What about St. Elizabeth Seton? Was her vocation to marriage or religious life? Was either choice that she made "wrong" and against God's will? And St. Joan of Arc? Boy, was she an "exception" to the rule!! We cannot possibly know all the intricacies of God's plan for us, but we can know that whatever we do, we should do it with love. I honestly think that if we are trying to do God's will, that is all that matters, whether you are married, single, religious, separated, widowed, or whatever!
|
|
|
Post by immortaldiamond on Dec 20, 2009 19:02:17 GMT -5
Wow! I was just reading part of a book by Fr. Leo Trese, and it just applies so well to this discussion of vocations that I'd like to share it.
From "More Than Many Sparrows":
|
|
|
Post by bedefan on Jan 4, 2010 21:19:17 GMT -5
Kate said: Please understand, as well, that if I sound callous there is a reason for it. <i>The only thing I have ever wanted to do with my life</i> is not what I am, on most days, <i>supposed</i> to do. On most days, it is impossible without damaging someone. If I sound callous in telling other people, "Writing is no one's vocation," it is because I have hardened myself to a reality I find very unpleasant. (And yet, I have an absolute conviction that it is, in fact, reality.)
I know this conversation is outdated, but in case Kate/bluemaydie's still checking it, I just wanted to say that these are the most terrifying sentences I've read recently--because I've been saying them silently to myself for some time. Kate, you're not alone... (Though I'm not a mother or a woman, actually, so I have no specific experience of what you're going through there.) Reality, when it hits, hits very, very hard, no?
Have you tried the Sigrid Undset coffee + cigarettes + late nights approach to writing and parenting? Although she didn't usually do this, apparently... I must say something about it is appealing to me nevertheless... I guess Tolkien mostly wrote late at night/early in the morning too.
Also, any writer who says you need to sell your work in order to be a real writer is probably a hack.
Mike (husband, father)
PS: Check out Steve Burt's essay in the latest Boston Review; it's a feature on mommy poets/poems.
|
|
|
Post by bluemaydie on Jan 5, 2010 15:30:28 GMT -5
Yup, I'm still checking it.
I'd never heard of the Undset approach (and since right now I'm three weeks from my due date, neither lots of coffe nor cigarettes nor late nights will really work), but I'd be willing to try almost anything that could make another Kristin Lavransdatter. It was several years ago that I read that trilogy, and in an older and clumsier translation, but there are scenes I cannot get out of my head. Maybe once the new baby's here and life has settled down into something like a pattern again (and my brain comes back from its pregnancy-induced hibernation) I can take late nights as my writing time. Because I am sooooo not a morning person...
I read the Burt essay--"abject motherhood" is a terribly depressing phrase. I tend to get tired pretty quickly of the stylistically shocking poetry he seems to be describing (because after a couple of poems, the rest of the volume isn't so shocking anymore), but I'm intrigued by the poet he talks about.
Re: reality hitting hard. I have to say that since I gave up on the idea of writing as my vocation, my writing has become much better. Just to rub salt in the paper-cut, right? I mean, my prose is still junk, and when I finally get around to writing my novel, it will still be utter crap. But my poetry has gotten much better. I think it's because I have something to write about now--it's not just art for art's sake or (Heaven help us) for my sake.
Immortaldiamond: I read the link you provided. I'd be fine with the idea of a single vocation if I thought its advocates were referring to consecrated virginity. But mostly what I've seen people arguing for is the lack of vows. Now, consecrated virginity is listed in the Catechism as a vocation. Unvowed states are not mentioned.
I'm not saying (nor would I ever say) that anyone who isn't married or consecrated is somehow going against God's will, or that they can't be saved. As you've pointed out, there are plenty of single saints. Moreover, it takes two to tango. You can't marry someone who says "no," no matter what your vocation might be. God makes a way out of no way; even in cases where vocations don't manifest, the path to Heaven is still wide open. But that doesn't suddenly create vocations where the Church has never recognized them before.
I suspect that what this boils down to, in the end, is that "vocation," "path to Heaven," and even "how we get through life" are all terms with very specific and <i>very different</i> meanings. And that what we're searching for here is the languages to describe we get through life with writing, along with all the other things we have to do. And I, for one, have not managed to do all the reading that would make that language clear.
|
|
|
Post by immortaldiamond on Jan 6, 2010 10:11:22 GMT -5
Wow, thank you dhunt! Beautifully said.
This is something that we all have to be reminded of, I think. We do not decide our vocation, we discover it. An especially good reminder to me, as I am, as a teen, very much in the middle of discerning God's will for my life.
|
|
|
Post by bluemaydie on Jan 6, 2010 15:35:09 GMT -5
Dhunt: Once again, I'm going to have to disagree.
Yes, discernment is a huge part of vocations. But it's not the end of the story. There are vows to be made and kept while doing all the other little things that come up. Doing dishes is not my vocation, although it may be something I do while fulfilling my marriage vows. And I know monastic priests who could say the same thing. That God wants me to do the dishes right now does not make them my vocation any more than His possibly wanting me to write makes that my vocation. I still say charism is a better term for both writing and dishes.
God may or may not will me to write. I don't know. But if He does will it, it won't happen on its own. I'll still have to decide to write. I'd still have to make the time. After all, if I automatically did everything He wills, I'd never have to go to confession. I think He called me to marriage; I still had to make the vow and I still have to keep it. He won't do it for me. To say that there is a vocation out there that happens on its own without the vocatee having to do anything to fulfill it doesn't fit in with the pattern established by the vocations of marriage and consecration.
You seem very annoyed with me for insisting on categories that have been defined for centuries. And I'll admit, I'm getting very frustrated with the lack of a definition for this nebulous "single vocation" I'm reading about. But terms have definitions, yes? How can we discuss this meaningfully if we have no definitions, if we're just supposed to be receptive without knowing what we're listening for? And beyond that, once we hear something, how are we supposed to test the spirit we're hearing? If we have no soild facts to compare with, I think we're sunk. Discerning whether or not I'm supposed to do the dishes is not on the same order of magnitude as discerning a vocation. For something that big, there should be some information to go on--for the sake of the informed conscience, if nothing else. That there is no soild information here makes me very leary of calling something new a vocation.
I'm not comparing my life to anyone else's; I started this by asking other writers not to measure <i>my</i> writing according to <i>their</i> output. What I'm trying to do is sift through some very confusing, very emotionally laden posts and figure out what the Church is saying about vocations. Because what I say about them doesn't matter. So far, the only solid thing I've found is in the Catechism. So far, no one has had any answer to that.
Immortaldiamond: Once you discern your vocation, you still have a lot of decisions to make. The first one will be whether you will fulfill your vocation. My husband tells a story of going to pray one day, when he was in high school. He told God, "Lord, I will do anything for you. I will lead armies for you. I will lead countries for you. I will shout your name from the rooftops. Ask anything of me, Lord, and I will do the most glorious things for you." And the answer came back (yes, my husband is one of those annoying people who actually hears answers clearly when he prays. He drives me crazy. Anyway, the answer came back), "Yes, but will you be humble for me? Will you raise a family for me? Will you live and die in obscurity for me?"
My husband couldn't answer. And if you ever meet him, you'll realize how big a deal that is. Now, in hindsight, you know what he decided. He said, "Yes." He married. He's a father. He's not an important man, although he's a born politician. But he could easily have chosen to say "no." And many people do; they discern their vocations and don't want them. And they turn their backs and do something else. So to say that God makes our vocations happen is a misunderstanding. He calls us, certainly. But he doesn't answer for us. And if we say no, He lets us, and may even call us to something else later. Because He never stops calling us home.
Also, if you check the Catechism, you'll see that the language used is that of "choosing a vocation," not discovering one. Just some more food for thought.
|
|
|
Post by firefolk on Jan 8, 2010 13:55:33 GMT -5
Dhunt, I like your theory. Every glass is different, but every glass is full.
By the way, Kate--I love how Texan you are. I seem to remember arguing with you once about whether writing came primarily from conscious craft or from divine inspiration; I still lean towards the latter, but I definitely concur that without the former, nothing happens. My experience has been that I wrote crap for years and years--well-meant crap but still crap, crappy enough that I can't bring myself to re-read some of it anymore--and then finally when I'd written enough crap it sort of flushed out my pipes and I started producing some stuff that I'm now happy with. I don't think writing, as such, is so much a vocation as it is the form that a general vocation might take in a particular person. Fulton J. Sheen was called to the priesthood, and that vocation obviously manifested itself primarily through his administration of the Sacraments and his spiritual guidance of his flock; but maybe it also manifested itself through his writing, rather than the writing being a completely separate thing from his vocation. Maybe for you the writing is the way in which your particular call to marriage and motherhood will manifest? I dunno, just a thought. Do you have a six-gun? Please tell me you have a six-gun.
|
|
|
Post by immortaldiamond on Jan 8, 2010 21:39:55 GMT -5
Thank you, Dhunt, for the compliment. But even more for your posts about vocations. The call to single life is a rather sensitive topic for me, because two of my sisters have discerned that call, and they are always getting opposition from the secular world. I also have a feeling that it may be my call. The thought frightens me at times, but it always helps to see such wonderful people living out the single vocation.
|
|
|
Post by bluemaydie on Jan 9, 2010 17:28:14 GMT -5
Dhunt: "And adamant that only two paths of life are acceptable, based on the catechism: marriage or religious vows (as in nun, monk, priest). "
I have never said that, nor would I. Nor does the Catechism. Vocations are not the only paths in life; they are specific paths with certain requirements. They are not the only acceptable paths in life, but the other paths in life are not defined by the Catechism as vocations. I suggest that "vocation" is not the proper term for those other paths. I think a broader vocabulary would lead to a clearer understanding. If the Church has defined "vocation" in a specific way, it is because the term has a specific meaning and is not interchangeable with other words, nor does it suffice in cases where other words are more appropriate. I don't know yet what the proper term is for the non-vocation states in life. I'm still looking.
"I can only hope that God does not send me to hell for being neither a wife nor a nun."
You are the only one here who has suggested that damnation is a possibility for you. I have never suggested--nor even implied--that life outside the vocations leads to hell. You and you alone have drawn that conclusion, and it is wrong.
Firefolk: I do not yet own a six-shooter, but I would like to get a gun someday. In the meantime, I hope it warms your heart just a little to know that one of my best friends here has a pump-action shotgun for purposes of home defense. (Re: divine inspiration vs. craft. God is everywhere and all the time inspiring us and calling us and loving us. But if we don't take the time to craft the poetry, it'll still be crap. It'll just be divinely inspired crap. For more on this, see my work in past issues of DT.)
I will no longer be checking this discussion. I have clarified my position to the best of my ability; further argument would be, I believe, fruitless. I am still searching for a definitive, magisterial answer on the question of what is defined as a vocation; specifically, is the unvowed single life so defined.
As we say in Texas (or at least we do in all the movies), adios, amigos.
|
|
|
Post by dhunt on Jan 10, 2010 2:25:31 GMT -5
Well, I don't know where I got that idea, Kate. Could have been in one of these remarks, maybe:
"Family is the only vocation anyone ever has, whether in the biological family created by marriage or ... in ... the Church." "But the Church defines only two Vocations. I didn't make that rule, but I have to--as a baptised and confirmed Catholic--live by it and try to make sense of it. And so does every other baptised and confirmed Catholic." and "Everyone is called to be part of the community or family. So why doesn't everyone get the chance to marry or join a religious community? No idea. But that doesn't let anyone off the hook." "I think I've been in too many arguments wherein someone seriously argues for there being "extra" Vocations within the Church (singleness or whatever). Our Vocation is family …[and] Our souls do not depend on our calling...they do on our vocation." and "I'd be fine with the idea of a single vocation if I thought its advocates were referring to consecrated virginity. But mostly what I've seen people arguing for is the lack of vows." et al.
But I should have learned my lesson the last time I attempted contribution and got blasted. If I'd been argumentative or critical, I might have deserved that. But I wasn't and I didn't. Oh, well. We are to "shake the dust from off our shoes" and don't go there again. So I am and I won't.
|
|
pauls
Junior Member
Posts: 23
|
Post by pauls on Jan 10, 2010 4:14:54 GMT -5
Okay,
Every time I come to this thread and think about this vocation discussion I think of iconography and its place in the Church.
Icons are not de facto sacramentals. Blessed water, blessed oil, blessed beeswax are examples of sacramentals, but icons, even if they are blessed, are not in that category (despite what some would say otherwise, and despite that some say they are a sacramental but only use the term generally).
But neither are icons just pieces of handicraft brought to bear holy messages to the faithful.
But neither are they merely a combination of, or halfway point between, a sacramental and a piece of mere handicraft.
They are something else.
Icons are born of the sacramental life (and it's no coincidence that iconographers employ blessed candles and water etc. in their writing of icons) and they do very much have a sacramental quality/character/virtue, but only in so far as the iconographer's prayer - his faith - is what went into making the icon happen. Icons are not a "direct instrument" employed by the Church, as sacramentals (and the Sacraments) are. The iconographer leaves behind him this icon-testament of his faith that wrote the icon, and so the icon becomes in consequence a sort of extension of the sacramental life of the Church. This can actually be or seem, in a certain sense and in certain times, more rich than sacramentals proper.
The "vocation" of the artist and writer (iconographers included) is like the place that the icon has in the life of the Church.
Put simply, if our situation in this world were merely a cut-and-dry, three-dimensional matter of us always counteracting everything we may or may not do with "Is this God's will for me?" then the fact is we wouldn't have the arts. And we would not have literature.
As for the 10 best things list that started this discussion, I didn't bother even reading it, and I'm not going to bother.
|
|
|
Post by dhunt on Jan 10, 2010 10:53:10 GMT -5
Iconography is a new approach, Paul, and possibly less inflammatory. Ostensibly, what started this rant was the interview with John Wright. I’d never heard of him and had not read the interview, so I had to google it. He’s sci-fi—that’s why I never heard of him (I’m not into sci-fi) and I didn’t read “10 Tips for Professional Writers” because I’m not a “professional” writer.
But I said “ostensibly” because the rant was actually an expression of feminist outrage, or anger about the difficulty women have in finding time to write when they have young children. It devolved into assertions about what constitutes a “vocation,” but the subtext remained anger against those difficulties. (One does not really consult blogs to learn magisterial definitions of anything), so single people who don’t have a vocation to marriage or religious life (subtext: don’t have those difficulties) become a focus for that kind of anger.
But anger is always an expression of pain and one’s instinct is to respond. Therein lay my folly. Anything a single person could say would only be fuel to the flame. Doing God’s will, or trying to, may actually be as simple as washing dishes, soul-searching aside, but someone who has dishes to wash doesn’t really want to hear that. Perhaps the thread can be revived via an iconography icon (sorry) instead of the apparently inflammatory term of vocation—it does seem to interest several people—but I think young people who may be in discernment and impressionable should maintain a healthy measure of objectivity. Writing is certainly not a vocation in the catechetical sense of the term, but it may still be God’s will for you if you feel drawn to it and have a talent (“gift”) for it. And it is quite possible to write and raise a family; actually, the vast majority of writers (including women) do have families, since most people have families, period.
But as I mentioned in an earlier piece of dust that had to be removed, single people who have no apparent religious vocation, writers included, might read St Josémaria Escrivá even without an inclination towards Opus Dei. Angry blogposts may not be helpful. One should remember, as I shall try harder to do, that their anger has nothing to do with you and your life, or with your own spiritual journey. That’s between you and the real Author, no one else.
At the end of his life, Thomas Merton said, "I don't know if I'm a monk. But I do know I am a writer." He had spent a lifetime trying to impose monastic discipline on himself with little success. I think that's why most of us are writers: because we write. No other reason, really.
|
|
|
Post by Bernardo on Jan 11, 2010 11:36:15 GMT -5
Hi all, I've been following the conversation here and just wanted to add a few thoughts about the recent turn it has taken. It may be trite, but all I want to point out is that whatever we want to say about the meaning of vocation, our first and foremost vocation is the Christian life. That involves something about how others will know we are Christians by our love. In that light, it has pained me to see this discussion take a turn towards recrimination, especially since it involves two of my most valued readers, writers, and forum posters. I'm not trying to nag, but I just want to point out that I think all this bitterness can be easily avoided if we act with charity not just in writing, but perhaps more importantly, in interpreting other's comments. Honestly, I don't see that anyone here was trying to be malicious or even disrespectful. We're all trying to figure out how to best live God's will for us, and as we do that there we are bound to face many frustrations as we come face to face with the reality of a fallen world. In other words: "Be kind, for everyone you meet if fighting a hard battle."
One final note about Mr. Wright's "commandments": I see a lot of scorn getting directed at them. Again I think this is a case of not being willing to give something the best possible interpretation. Let's extend that courtesy to him as well. If we do so, I think what we find is this: not an attack against everyone who isn't a writing producing and selling machine, but a prod too all of us who are too comfortable living with the *idea* of being a writer to actually get off our butts, write, and find some readers. It is a common enough phenomenon, I think. Have we not all been there at some point? Dena, before you take a sour view of what he has to say, why not consult Ralph McInerny's thought on the writing life in an article published within the last couple of years in First Things? I take you admire Dr. McInerny, so that's why I mention him. In that article he says a lot of things quite similar to what Wright says here. Again, I don't mean the "commercial" part. I mean the part about being serious enough about writing that we don't just stick to the idea of it, but actually get down to business. In the end that's all, I think, that Wright wants to say. And I thank him for it.
|
|
|
Post by dhunt on Jan 11, 2010 22:57:50 GMT -5
Thank you, Bernardo. Really. One hopes for a turn, but on one's own, one is powerless to turn because one is stuck in defense mode and can't get out. (Lotta one's. Sorry.) Your post makes that turn possible. It works like that, you know; sometimes things can't straighten themselves out; someone else has to step in and do a bit of steering. And it really does have to be someone else.
One thing: I didn't have a problem with Wright. That wasn't me. (My problem was vocation boxes.) I don't read him because I don't enjoy sci-fi, but I have a great appreciation of professional writing. (I use the term "professional" because it's what he used. I'm not a professional.) I do enjoy good mystery, adventure, and what I call "recreational" reading as I said in the post about McInerny ("more fun than profundity"). Yes, I read what he had to say in First Things ("The Writing Life"); it was very interesting, and I suspect he'd agree with Wright on most points, if not all of them. I had no problem with Wright, just unfamiliarity with him.
McInerny resolved to make money with his writing and succeeded. He had a family to support. He studied the market, and taught himself to perfect a marketable craft. And late at night, after working all day, then tending family all evening, he went into his basement and labored. I admire that. I appreciate good craftsmanship in anything. And I love reading it. Just not sci-fi, fantasy, or that which is called "romance."
If I were younger, I might attempt that kind of writing, but I doubt I would succeed. I read what I enjoy but I write what I write. I read once that Eudora Welty's favorite reading was Agatha Christie. I don't know if that's true, but I understand it.
|
|