A life well-lived

I'm re-reading Parker Palmer's Let Your Life Speak, which I haven't read in more than a decade. (Remember when I talked about vocation/vacation?) I have to say, it's really speaking to me this time.

Have you ever read a book at just the right time, where you find yourself nodding along to every single sentence in every single paragraph?

I had to stop to breathe and then wipe away tears after reading this paragraph:

"Vocation at its deepest level is not, 'Oh boy, do I want to go to this strange place where I have to learn a new way to live and where no one, including me, understands what I'm doing.' Vocation at its deepest level is, 'This is something I can't not do, for reasons I'm unable to explain to anyone else and don't fully understand myself but that are nonetheless compelling'" (Palmer, 25).

I'm really resonating with the tension between the ego and the true-self. Am I living the life I am meant to live? Of course, there are very valid reasons we run away from our calling, and there are so many (SO many) conflicting messages from all directions (within and without) as to what is a life well-lived.

I'm comforted by the fact that even Palmer went through darkness and shadows, which he believes are integral in the journey towards selfhood, and that he wanted to share with us what he felt few elders were willing to talk to him about when he was in his twenties and thirties.

I could go on and on, and really, the whole thing is just so evocative I am tempted to cut and paste the entire book to my blog, but alas.

Oh, to be a Quaker!

Finally, this whole divine/human interface is making me feel very confused and like it's time for a cheeseburger.