Way Closing Behind (Part II)

"If I try to be or do something noble that has nothing to do with who I am, I may look good to others and to myself for a while. But the fact that I am exceeding my limits will eventually have consequences....When I try to do something that is not in my nature or the nature of the relationship, way will close behind me."

As part of my wresting with Parker Palmer's reflections on "way closing behind," I find that I must work through everything that happened from Summer 2003, when I believe that I "hit bottom" in my depression, to Spring 2004, when I closed the door on my PhD pursuit at Baylor University and my brief tenure as Visiting Lecturer of Religion at Pepperdine University for a truly uncertain future.

I still vividly remember the pain and anxiety that I suffered during the "dissertation summers" of 2002 and 2003. I turned to the solitary task of research and writing with incredibly hesitancy. When I engaged my work (after working through every form of procrastination possible: email, websites, phone calls, errands, housework, television, etc.) I remember the feeling of my life fleeing my body. My dissertation work completely drained me of myself in every way possible. In Summer 2003, I remember literally falling asleep after 10 minutes of turning to my work. There was no enthusiasm within me for this work, which now I see manifested itself because of a complete and utter disconnection between the task at hand and my self. I told myself repeatedly that I "should" be able to complete the dissertation. I compared myself to others who completed the process, even with great struggle, but found no motivation in their stories. Of course, I told everyone that I was making slow progress, but that generally things were fine. I was simply trying to make myself "look good to others," and even to myself. If they believed I could pull through, of course I could, and I felt that I "ought to" or "must" because of all of the loving encouragement that so many provided. There was a moral imperative, in the most Kantian sense, to get through the process - to finish - and I knew, somehow, that I could do it. But I could not find the motivation, excitement, energy, or enthusiasm to do any of it. I am not a lazy person, nor uncommitted, there was simply nothing of me in this (as I see it now). I pursued the process because it was the next step that would allow me to engage a good, and noble, life: teaching. The problem was, there was nothing of me and for me in this process.

The fact that I kept at it for so long amazes me sometimes. I think that there is a corporate form of lying that serves as some form of false mutual encouragement. The problem is, as Parker suggests, God ultimately happens. Everyone supporting you in the PhD process (or in any endeavor) wants to believe that you will succeed and are succeeding. There is nothing wrong with this form of faith. In fact, it is essential to true encouragement. When this confidence is reciprocated, even if the person has a sinking suspicion that things are going awfully with and for the person in question, they accept it because they want to believe, and I want to believe, that I am doing well. Taken at face value, everything is okay, but I think we all knew for a while that beyond the surface encouragements (the casual, mutual lie) that I was struggling. But I don't think I was honestly willing to admit to myself exactly how much deep and hot water I found myself in. My ship was sinking fast, and I simply moved everything to the upper decks of the ship more and more to give the appearance of stability. When, again, people want to believe this, the sail on and do not notice the ever-sinking vessel. Only when the boat sinks and we are all shocked can we all confess that we knew something was awry.

It appeared that writing this dissertation was not in my nature, and way closed behind. My early graduation from the PhD program with a Masters degree, and the end of my three year visiting appointment at Pepperdine were ways to accept that God did not create me to write this dissertation, and to finish this PhD program.

"The God I know does not ask us to conform to some abstract norm for the ideal self. God asks us only to honor our created nature, which means our limits as well as potentials. When we fail to do so, reality happens - God happens - and way closes behind us."

A large part of my healing over the next few months came from truly embracing the power of God's creation. I wrote an interesting article that was published in Leaven: A Journal for Ministry. In this article I suggested a trinitarian framework for Chrsitian vocation. I basically argued that Christian vocation comes from outside of us, in the call of Jesus Christ revealed in his ministry, his death and resurrection, and in the Spirit as it continues its life in and through the Church in the World as the active presence of the Father. During the Fall 2003 term I was asked to participate in a seminar on vocation in the Communication division. My experience during the summer showed me that my understanding of vocation is only half right. There is a command in the gospel that calls for obedience. But there is also God's creation. During my study for the fall presentation, I grew to understand myself as God's creature. I am not an abstract human, nor an abstract believer. I am who I am as a unique person and as (hopefully) a faithful person. As such, I needed to honor not only my potentials, which is not a problem for me, but also, and more importantly to discern and accept my limits. That is a more difficult task. I come from the school that believes we can become anything we want...even know I understand (and understood then) that is not only untrue, but impossible. I don't think I ever took the time to know myself in order to discern and truly accept my limitations, and to define who I am by these limitations, and the potentialities that they reveal. 34 years of age is a late start on this concrete realization, but better late than never, right.

And through this, way closed on my dissertation process and opened me out to an uncertain future.

"Our strongest gifts are usually those we are barely aware of possessing."

I spent a great deal of time throughout Summer and Fall 2003 and Spring 2004 discerning my potentialities, my gifts. My counselor challenged me to confront people that I expected would be upset by my withdrawal from the PhD program, and through this process I found a warm acceptance from my family, mentors, and friends. In fact, I found a great deal of personal support from many friends who were simply concerned about my well being when I was throwing around words like "painful depression" and "career change." I am truly grateful for everyone who encouraged me during this time. The positive energy that this response generated gave me the courage to try and find open doors away from the one that "way closed."

This encouragement from family and friends along with several cross-surveys helped me to begin to discern my gifts, talents, and interests. I found Parker's insight true: we cannot see our gifts well. They are things I do so naturally that I assume that everyone can do them. In this sense, I take them completely for granted, and end up frustrating others when I do not recognize a gift and assume everyone can function at the same level with every task that I can accomplish. And because these gifts, or potentialities, are difficult to discern, it is nearly impossible for me to articulate my specific gifts. However, as time beyond "was closing" rolls on, I get a better and deeper sense for the things I do that I simply do because I am me; things I draw great joy from; things I can do easily while others cannot. Articulating these gifts remains difficult, and getting clarity on these is crucial since way will likely open vocationally for me through these portals.

"When I resist way closing rather than taking guidance from it, I may be ignoring the limitations inherent in my nature - which dishonors true self no less than ignoring the potentials I received as birthright gifts...[E]ach time door closes, the world opens up. All we need to do is stop pounding on the door that just closed, turn around - which puts the door behind us [Phil 3.13] - and welcome the largeness of life that now lies open to our souls."

Even though I accepted "way closing" on my career in the professorate by ending the PhD process by accepting a Master of Arts degree from Baylor and leaving teaching for horizons unknown, I do not know if I truly accepted the closed door. As I read these sections in Palmer, I could see myself standing at the closed door marked, The Academy, banging my little heart out trying to get back in. After one semester away from the classroom at Pepperdine, I returned to teach one course per term through the remainder of my time at Pepperdine. I chose to teach because I missed being in the role of professor and the growth relationships that office created in my relationship with students. So, I jumped back in. Also, of course, the money did not hurt. I couldn't believe that I was teaching "for money," but there I was "having" to teach and work my full-time position simply to make ends nearly meet in Southern California.

As time marched on I began to panic vocationally. I was working at Pepperdine in the Office of Student Information and Services, but did not see any genuine direction that would help my family. And, with a baby on the way, my wife and I needed some sort of stability. So, I began to entertain the idea of returning to graduate school to finish what I started. This decision was met with a mixture of encouragement and concern. Encouragement by many who (including myself) want me to finish the terminal degree and return to teaching not only because I believe I am a good teacher, but I also believe that it is a good thing to do. Others met my decision and my inquiry for recommendation letters with concern. "This is a bad idea," said one of good friends and former professors. He saw myself far more clearly that I did. I was banging on the closed door, unwilling to accept that "way closed behind" for me when I accepted my limitation placed before my eyes so brilliantly during the end of my graduate career and in my dissertation process. "This is not you" was the main word I heard from these experience. Those are difficult words to read even today, because I am not entirely done banging on that door it seems. I don't know why I keep coming back, but I do, and I believe that I am beginning to realize the wisdom of Parker's words. Maybe I am not able to see the future horizon because my eyes remain trained on the door. If I embrace turning around to face the open fields before me...who knows that I will find?

"We must take the no of the way that closes and find the guidance it has to offer - and take the yes of the way that opens and respond with the yes of our lives."

After reading these words, I wonder if I am on this threshold. Way has closed behind for so many reasons on The Academy. There are things I like in that realm, but there are many, crucial things at odds with who I am. I can rationalize and justify re-opening this door, but I believe that if I continue to do so I not only re-engage dis-authenticity, which creates the sort of pain that leads to burnout and further self-anguish, but also continue allowing myself to be driven by some sort of noble ideal rather than myself.

When I made the transition to Baylor University in May, I embraced it as an incredibly opportunity to do something that I know I loved before. I also embraced it as an opportunity to shift the quality of our family life to better accommodate a newborn and, now, a toddler. Seven brief and fast months later I think I am finally seeing this opportunity as the "yes" of an "open way" and can see how I find the "yes" of my life in the things I am currently doing. I will admit that I still look back at the closed door and think about opening it. In fact, I struggled to handle this period of my life as a time when "way closed behind," because the wound is too fresh (I guess) to say absolutely that the way marked "The Academy" is closed forever for me. I still hold out some hope that I can be in this world somehow. If Parker is right, though, I stifle myself and the future through this hanging on. And this point of tension is where prayer is essential. To turn and see the open fields opposite the closed door is likely the best course of action, but I'm not sure I'm ready to release the handle. And this may be the heart of my ongoing vocational struggle. There is comfort in the identity I spent years nurturing in The Academy. Life on the other side is less defined, and certainly less noble.

My hope and prayer is that I can accept the way closed (and to learn not to try and follow that phrase with "for now") and boldly but the door behind me and march on, head up, moving forward, in search of possibilities to say "yes" to things that come from within. I see myself, while still in the struggle for sure, on this journey and seek for way to either open or close so that my next steps become more clear.

As I continue reading, I'll drop in and process a bit more. I worry that I'm being a bit too transparent here, but hope that anyone who reads will take all of these words in the spirit of personal insight and exploration that are intended. These words are not meant to demean anyone, simply to express in words things that have ruminated in my soul for some time. Getting them out in words helps, and I appreciate that at least David reads them :). More Soon, Carl.