July 30, 2006

Crossroads

I had an interesting conversation with a priest at lunch today—no, it wasn’t over confession, but over spaghetti, chicken, iced tea and coffee.  Over coffee (tea for me), he asked me straight out: “so what do you plan to do with your life, Ted?”;  he asked it as if I hadn’t been doing anything with my life for the past several decades.  

It didn’t offend me, it actually got me thinking.

Right now, I’m holding down the equivalent of five (5) full-time jobs:  a partner at a law firm, a full-time coordinator position with a lawyers’ non-government organization, a full-time faculty position at U.P., a directorship at its Legal Aid Clinic and branch leadership of a Catholic community for single professionals.  Despite all these, I sometimes feel that I’m not doing much with my life—don’t know if this makes sense but this feeling does come over me sometimes—and that perhaps I should be doing more.  That was why the question, “so what do you plan to do with your life?” hit home earlier.

I’m still thinking about it.  I don’t really know what the answer is;  I don’t know if I’d like the answer.  Whatever the answer is, I pray that God will be at the center.  I pray for the grace to be able to know His plans for me and the added grace of being able to act on His plans for me.  

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sir, harsh as this may sound, but I am actually relieved you feel "lost" too. I guess it is something normal, something that doesn't fade with age, or experience, or even life lessons. To be lost is to be human. And the big irony is that we are not entirely just human beings -- we are spiritual beings in a human journey, as mentioned by Fr. Villarin in one of his homilies. That dual condition compounds feelings of being torn, of feeling neither here nor there, and of always, always thinking there's some place else I must be and something more IMPORTANT I must be doing.

I'm sorry to be making this comment as "anonymous". I'm obviously a student (who's not ready to discuss not having a life plan with her professor).

I was reminded last night how questions should, in themselves, be loved. The answers, in some cases, are only of secondary importance. Be thankful you can ask these questions and that you can afford to have a life that will ultimately answer them.

There.