I’m learning that sometimes my vocation isn’t the work I do; it’s what I do after work.
This is how my photography began; after my writing and blogging, I went outside with my camera and realized how much I loved what I was doing.
Some stranger – his name was Ralph Poulfer – chastised me yesterday in a message for spending money on my photography and trying to get new or affordable lenses or cameras all the time.
He asked a question I sometimes am asked: Why can’t I just be happy with what I have? Why have I always wanted to be better?
“All you do is want to buy things!” wrote Ralph. “I wish you could learn to be satisfied with what you have instead of always wanting something else. It’s sad. Do you NEED another camera to be happy?”
Ralph, it’s an important question you’re asking. I don’t write this to shame you but to answer your question in the open.
My honest answer is that I hope I am never satisfied with my work and be happy with myself, even though I have to say I’m pretty excited otherwise these days, which you would know if you knew me.
I always want to be better. I believe it’s essential for my age, my health, my work. And above all, my happiness.
Thanks for worrying about me.
One thing doesn’t exclude the other. I find happiness in too many things to mention.
I’ve been very good at searching for bargains for the necessary tools. That makes me very happy.
I think I inherited this (to me) drive and determination from my mother. And the answer to your question is easy: it makes me better.
My mother always wanted more, fought to improve, and never gave up on her true self, even as the world around her did.
The men in her life, including her husband, always found a way to block or undermine her.
She once asked me to promise I wouldn’t let that happen. I have kept my promise, Mom, and I will continue to do so. I married someone who supports me, something you never had, and she is one of the primary reasons I am so happy now.
And I will never do to her what my father did to her.
The man who wrote me that message doesn’t know what a vocation is, and I’m afraid I’m not the one to tell him.
You either feel it, or you don’t. I’m so glad he wasn’t my father; I hope he is nobody’s father, although mine didn’t approve of me much either.
A vocation might be a friend who paints toy horses at night and in her spare time or a violinist in the local symphony who runs the family pizza parlor during the day. I used to think what I loved was a waste of time and wasn’t real work. I was so wrong.
I think it was Thomas Merton who set me straight: “Discovering vocation does not mean scrambling toward some prize just beyond my reach but accepting the treasure of true self I already possess.”
It’s a powerful idea for me. Photography is the treasure of my true self; so is writing, and together, both are my vocation.
Our American culture and the modern world seem to have lost sight of what it means to “have a vocation” and persuaded most of us to get a job instead and make a lot of money.
There is usually a lot more money in jobs.
I think nothing is sadder to me than reducing what I love to be paid to do or working only for money. To me, that is just a corporate way of enslaving people.
Money is important. I need to make money like everyone else, but I also need to have joy in my life and to do the things that bring that. When money is all that matters, life turns gray and empty for me.
Some people will never understand that; it goes against their DNA, and some enrich their lives by finding love and making time to do it.
I had a wise teacher who taught me that giving advice is the least useful thing you can do. I am always amused/amazed at the urge many folks have to gived advice to others, especially to those they have never met.
Thank you Jon for this observation.
Just several years before retiring, I started to paint with watercolors. I was always artistic but never indulged in an art medium. The whole time and money thing, you know. But now that I have more time, and am able to live relatively comfortably financially, I have set up an entire studio and added oils and acrylics to my watercolors. At first I was hesitant to buy quality supplies but then realized that in order to enjoy and improve my vocation, I needed to invest in myself. I love painting. I love to read. I WILL acquire art supplies and books and not feel indulgent or guilty. Someone else may need car stuff, or camera stuff, or garden stuff, or quilting stuff, or sports stuff. I need art stuff. It keeps me alive.
As a long time reader, I admire and appreciate your quest to continually learn and improve, whether it is taking photos or becoming a more centered and gentle being.
For myself, I am actively working on contentment. Learning to accept the circumstances and the results of choices I made throughout my life. Some of my friends question this, suggesting that I need to strive to be better, do more, work harder at life.
Now, I enjoy a quiet life. My rescue cats, good books I get at Little Free Libraries throughout my city, a hot cuppa and time in the garden.
If you want new used lenses, You Do You! I’ll enjoy the pictures and experience moments of peace as I view them.
was this portrait of Maria taken with your Leica? Wow! Stunning! And which lens? your newer one?
Susan M
Ralph has a good point.
Like in the movie Annie Hall. The Woody Allen character was never satisfied. Could not be. Annie was but he could not learn from her, could not absorb satisfaction
Here’s my point: what I spend or need is none of Ralph’s business. I suppose it’s worth it to be compared with Annie Hall, that’s a draw jopper. I love that movie the comparison is a bit bizarre.
Oh, I can see his childhood wounds in his comment to you. Sadly, he no doubt was told that same thing, with a wagging finger of a parent, teacher, or priest. My Hubs was taught the same thing by his parents, who were taught a version of that by their parents, and on and on ad infinitum. (aka generational trauma) It comes from a core belief in lack – that there isn’t and won’t be enough, so you must hang on to everything you have and never let it go. Wishing for more is wicked and shows a lack of gratitude. My Hubs told me once that he thought my problem was never being satisfied. I could see why he would think that, taking into consideration how he was shamed as a child for wanting things. I have a different view – I am satisfied where I am and always open to learning and experiencing more – and that appears to be a strange dichotomy for most, but not to me – it’s balance. Curiosity is the driver of this belief and I am confident I will never lose mine. I believe that you won’t ever lose yours, Jon. I’ve been along for the ride watching your curiosity and how it takes you from one experience to the next, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. Thank you!
Oh, this makes me cry. It reminded me that we have a *God * who sees us as the apple of god’s eye, who loves to see us pursuing goodness, truth and beauty. My vocation is to know everything about everything (bernard Lonergan) until i have found the answer to everything. And this is godself.
We need each other and i needed you today!
So for Ralph to “be happy”, he has to see a stranger change his vocational perspective?
Geeze, Ralphie boy! Caught up in the past are we?
Thanks for putting into words what I feel too! Oddly when I’ve sold photos (only a few through a consign shop ) I realized that I felt weird about it selling them. I was Happy that someone wanted some of my art – but my photos aren’t a job. They are a joy. I’ll share them freely.
And I’ll never stop searching for new and better – I love to learn – and work on myself too.