Stay with me on this one.Â
Robert Bruce caught me in a revealing misread of his latest poem at Knife Gun Pen: Everything Will Conspire to Stop You. My misread says more about me than Robert’s poem, I think. A poetry criticism Freudian slip of sorts.
Here are the stanzas where I veered off into a revealing reader response:
you’ve got to
sharpen the steel
and
do it
do it
do it
and
do it
againNo matter the payoff
This is the big leagues
baby
After finishing the poem, I immediately read David Zemens‘ first comment. His ideas recast the poem for me into the specific context of people who strive to be ”A-List” bloggers (which I do not strive to be).
I do love poetry and blogging and writing, in general, though. And I commented,
If I have to choose, I want to be an A-List dad and husband. It ain’t sexy, but it’s my life.
Then Robert and WPS wondered at my response. And I began to wonder too. Why do I feel like I have to choose? In fact, why do so many professionals turn their careers into zero-sum games, diving into workoholism like it is the only way to show you value the work?
I know I should feel like loving my kids and my wife is a big league thing to do, but it usually just feels domestic.
Certainly my devotion to my family and my growing devotion to online communities aren’t mutually exclusive. But I only have so much time in the day. My day job already pulls me away for 40+ hours a week. Blogging often feels like moonlighting–and I have no intention of monetizing it.
This was all brought home to me this weekend. I took a holiday on Good Friday and decided to take a holiday from the blogosphere as well. My six-year-old daughter, itching to play a game, read over my shoulder as I typed a comment to that effect. “See you later, I’m unplugging from the computer for the weekend.” Then she gave me a kiss and started dancing around the room.
It gives one pause.
Don’t get me wrong. Blogging is very important to me. I can’t stop doing it. But it is fourth on my list and I often don’t make it past the first three items: faith, family, and work.
As long as this is a hobby, I have to be careful that I don’t let my play get in the way of my purpose. That doesn’t mean there isn’t purpose in my play. It does mean there will be time to sharpen the steel of blogging.
There will not be much more time to play games with my six-year-old daughter.
I love you all who read here (and must be hoping for another post about editing?). Certainly there is purpose in our play here. But I am not responsible for you in the same way that I am responsible for my daughter. That puts more weight on the limited time I have to play with her.
In some ways, I agree with Prufrock. “There will be time, there will be time.”
And, frankly, “I am not Prince Hamlet.” I’d be happy to be “an attendant Lord, one that will do / To swell a progress, start a scene or two.” Frankly, I’m happy just to be on stage with all of you in the blogosphere.
But all of us differ from Prufrock in a really important way. At his dinner party, he sees the woman across the room and wonders “Do I Dare? Do I dare disturb the universe?”
You bet I do. We all do. We are here to sharpen the steel. We are here to sharpen each other. And do it do it do it. We are here to disturb the universe.
Prufrock is not. He announces his fear and defeat with a question: Would it have been worth it after all? If he tries to disturb the universe, if he approaches the woman he adores, and she just doesn’t get it? Is the effort alone worth the risk?
Prufrock says no. Disturbing the universe is only worth trying if we know the pay off.
Robert and WPS and I do not agree with Prufrock. We will disturb the universe no matter the payoff. God help us, daring to try is the payoff.
{ 24 comments }
Yep. Amen. Preach it. All that.
What a great poem Prufrock is, though–just as a launching-off point for . . . a whole lot of stuff.
I constantly struggle with the tug-of-war between priorities. Each of them is important, yet definitely have their place.
God must come first for all to fall into place. People have more value (eternal value) than activites or jobs.
Providing for our families comes after the actual people. Then writing or whatever it is that tickles our fancy.
How do you know when to do what? There are just so many hours in one day. Do you give up the extras, wait for the kids to grow up, try to juggle both….? Tough choices. Most people I know have opted to give up their dreams.
For now, I’ve chosen to juggle. I’ve given up things in the past-quilting and even reading (for a time). I found that my creativity banged against its cages to be free.
To be free, but not to take over-therein lies the struggle.
“God help us, daring to try is the payoff.”
I think it was Aquinas on his deathbed, “Everything I have written is straw”, or something like that… I am too young and arrogant to completely understand this wisdom, but I get it somehow.
I’m not sure we disagree here Mark, I think maybe my head is mud.
In that poem, I would have included (sometimes to the exclusion of anything else) time with daughter, wife, meditation, prayer, study, beer, etc. (ie., whatever your hand finds to do in life at any given moment)…
Time spent with our children is the big leagues
Time spent fixing the toilet is the big leagues
Time spent loving our wives (though imperfectly) is the big leagues
Time spent face down before the Great King is the big leagues
And yes, time spent writing a little poem is the big leagues
Degrees of importance are laced throughout that list… uh-huh. But when my hand is at any one of them, in that moment, I am responsible for it.
Anyway, thanks for this, you give good edit my friend. And good debate.
Lemme know…
Yes, I’ve got new rules myself… no computer before 9:00 am. Unplug at 6:00 (6:30 the latest… and hope my spouse doesn’t replug, ’cause then I sometimes get snared!)
It was my daughter’s pencil-drawn picture of selfishness that got my attention. One item in the pic was a computer with a cup of tea next to it. Ouch.
Robert, I agree that we don’t disagree at all. (Um, that makes perfect sense, right?)
It’s the opposite of that adage don’t sweat the small stuff and its all small stuff. I’m not encouraging people to have anxiety attacks or anything, but it isn’t all small stuff.
The small stuff–like you said–is the big leagues.
Maybe you’ve seen the great noir film The Zero Effect? There isn’t any small stuff or big stuff. There’s just a bunch of stuff.
It’s the stuff of our lives. I must never disengage from the present moment. Never. I must never lose focus. Never.
Of course I will. But as soon as I realize it–zip–I need to get back into the moment. The present moment is the closest I can ever get to eternity in this life.
This poem, my misread, and the comments on my misread really really made me think. Any poem that makes someone think is doing a lot of things right.
I don’t know if that makes it big league stuff. But it sure made an impact on me.
Backing up a bit…
Jenn, I do like to preach sometimes, darn it. Thanks for the kind words.
I’m glad you liked the reference to Prufrock. To be honest, I was worried that it was too erudite or something. It’s a really tough poem–I was forced to teach it for years before I was able to make sense out of it.
Oh, those poor poor students in my first years of teaching.
Eve, you pretty much summed it up for me. It’s funny, though. I almost didn’t put faith in my top three.
Not because faith isn’t a priority, but because it isn’t a time drain in the same way as choosing between work and family and hobby.
God goes with me no matter what priority I’m pursuing.
But then I thought I could be misinterpreted. And I thought, it could also be an excuse not to be still and know.
Being still. Ha. Someday I’ll learn how to do that.
(naaaah.)
L.L., I’m lucky enough that I get to experiment with this stuff a little bit at work.
But I blog from home too. Because as strange as it sounds, the bloggers I read really are my friends. I live in a small town. If I try to talk poetry and writing here, I get funny looks.
But you all get funny looks too! So online we can all get funny looks together. Awww.
Marcus,
My comments probably reveal more about me than they do about you. The struggle, my struggle, is to live an undivided, yet focused, life. It was Jim Elliot who said, “Wherever you are, be all there.” How does that happen? How do we give all of who we are to whatever – and whoever – is before us at any given moment? I do not know. But, I do hope for enlightenment (or at least a little wisdom). And, I must confess, I am envious of the kiss from your dancing daughter. Peace.
WPS, I’m right there with you. I like the metaphor of living a whole life or a centered life or a focused life–much more than the metaphor of a balanced life.
And yet some elements of our lives are bound by time and necessarily either/or. I’m either at work or at home. I’m either watching TV or blogging. That sort of thing.
If you figure out the secret to living in the moment, be sure to let me know. I suspect it is something like praying without ceasing, but I can’t really imagine that without twisting the way I define prayer.
Thanks for the comments and the good conversation.
I think the interesting point is that you all seem to be dividing life into the “big” items and the “small” items – but what if all of the items are big and we just don’t know it because we don’t have the mind of God?
Susan, that’s what makes someone a prophet, I think. When a person has insight into the mind of God, he or she sees the higher truth. They are enlightened to the truth–to borrow WPS’s terminology and Plato’s metaphor.
Of course, the Bible talks about the light of wisdom, too.
“These commands are a lamp, this teaching is a light” (Prov. 6:23).
“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path” (Ps. 119:105).
Hi Marcus (and all others)
We all ’struggle’ with priorities (some more than others, or some times more than others). Kent Blumberg just wrote a post about focus and priorities. It’s about teams and management and businesses, but I personally feel his advice can be used in many (if not any) situation.
http://kentblumberg.typepad.com/kent_blumberg/2007/04/how_to_focus_yo.html
I for one will follow his list and advice in business as well as in my personal life (the ‘distinction’ between the two sometimes gets lost
)
“God goes with me no matter what priority I’m pursuing.
But then I thought I could be misinterpreted. And I thought, it could also be an excuse not to be still and know.”
I admit that this has sometimes been my excuse. God’s convinced me that, though, that He desires to be pursued by me-as much as a woman desires to be pursued and loved (maybe men like that too?)
Funny looks-yep, know all about them *grin* I typically get this longsuffering look-”Here we go again…”
Karin, that is quite a challenge on Kent’s blog to focus. I admit that I’m more like a shotgun than a rifle, but it’s something I am trying to be more deliberate about.
Hi Marcus
I’ll have to promise myself to follow his steps from now on. Kent is a great ‘help’ in keeping focused.
( I’ll get lost otherwise in too many things to do, too little time, too many ’scrambled’ priorities and hence nothing will get done properly – not even taking care of people, sharing and learning all things related)
Eve, yeah. I think men want to be loved too, but our culture encourages us to be the pursuer. That role actually makes a lot of the romantic imagery about pursuing God difficult for men–in those metaphors we’re always cast in the role of God. Weird.
Ah, well. Men might read more Song of Songs. She’s the pursuer there, hands down.
Balance in life is so elusive. One day, as I was struggling to know if I was spending my time wisely, I read the lyrics to a song that went something like, “this is your life, are you who you want to be?” At first it freaked me out, because I didn’t want my life to be about all the mundane things I had been doing. Then I thought more about it. The song asked if this is “who” I want to be, not “what” I want to be doing. Maybe the spiritual formation that happens in our lives and those we love is an important criteria for all these things we all do.
Marcus
Sorry I’m late to this discussion – I was unplugged yesterday. This post is why you’re a blogging friend to me- you want to be A list husband and father!
It’s not always a zero-sum game but we do have limited time and energy (it’s a humbling sign of our humanity and a reminder of God’s majestic attributes). We must have priorities and you’re reminding us why and which ones are most important. It’s why I respect you and other bloggers like LL who are gifted, love writing and blogging but know it’s not of first importance.
He is an A list husband and father – A+. Our children may not always understand the time their father spends hunched over the keyboard, but they know he loves reading and writing, and therefore at ages 6 and 2, they already do, too. And more importantly, they absolutely know he loves them. And he loves God. And, thank God, he loves me.
Mark, an A-list husband declaration from your bride. That’s better than any blog award for sure!
Blessings to Mr. and Mrs. G, as well as your little scribes.
Mark: I’ve been meditating on this post, and the ensuing comments, all weekend. I couldn’t hold back any longer. Thanks for a wonderful discussion thread and a sliver of eternity, something so much bigger and more important than the urgent of the here and now.
What God is teaching me right now is that all the experiences I’ve had, the lessons I’ve learned, the moments of truth I have experienced, may very well be exactly what I need when life comes barreling at me. The mundane of the relationship with my wife was exactly what I needed when she was diagnosed with cancer several years ago. The mundane of family game nights are exactly what I need now when the big, bad world comes after my 14-year-old daughter with fangs bared and claws extended. It is in those moments that I get just a small glimps of what God must see all the time, and can connect the inconsequential minutae that has flown by with the times that define us.
I couldn’t agree more with the sentiments that Mr. Bruce offered about do it do it do it, because if you don’t, you’ll quit too soon and quite possibly miss the one piece you need when it seems that there is nothing else to cling to.
Thanks so much for stirring this up!
Touche L.L. And a good reminder that our culture can learn tons from the Hebrew culture of the Old Testament.
Charity, I love that song! And a great interpretation. Our lives are defined by our identities not our activities.
ESI, no worries about being late to the conversation. I unplugged all weekend and just now got back. (Big Bear was beautiful. My friend, Karl, and I had a great time.) You wrote, ” It’s not always a zero-sum game but we do have limited time and energy (it’s a humbling sign of our humanity and a reminder of God’s majestic attributes).” It’s that kind of honest blend of theology, wisdom, and practicality that I love about your site. Thanks for dropping by.
Amy, love you, hon.
Craver, you’ve blessed my kids with a new nickname! “Our little scribes.” Heh heh heh. I’ll torture them with that forever.
Tom, you are uncharacteristically serious here! Wow. I assume your wife is better now? And I will be praying for your daughter. My daughter’s six and the thought of sending her to high school terrifies me. On the other hand, I was a teacher for ten years, and those places aren’t quite the dens of iniquity that they sometimes seem to be. Still, I’m praying for you, man.
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