Last week, I had the privilege of conversing with Dr. Kevin Gary’s CORE 115 students, who are exploring “Vocation and the Good Life” through their reading, discussion, and writing this semester. College can be such a rich space for delving into these questions, particularly at Valpo, and I was deeply curious. What were they mulling over? What did they think it might mean to live well? How were they seeking to understand and discern a sense of vocation or purpose? What sort of conversation were they having, with writers and with each other, to get at such questions in earnest?
In our discussion, students brainstormed, teasing out the defining elements of “vocation” and a “good life” from their previous reading and reflection. They highlighted the importance of intentionality and humility in cultivating a deeper sense of joy or contentment (as opposed to chasing happiness). They mentioned how crucial self-reflection and awareness are, and how we must lean into growth (and sometimes discomfort) to discern and live well. We also reflected on role models and communities that anchor and orient us, the ways we are called outside of ourselves, and how–for many–faith underpins even trying to frame these questions at all. Suffice it to say, they were pondering and synthesizing an impressive range of potent ideas–ideas that suggested more fulfilling ways of being in the world, ways of leading and serving with intention.
Exploring such questions and concepts isn’t tidy and easily determined. Indeed, it’s not something you can assume you’ll have fully figured out at twenty two, or even thirty five or seventy for that matter (see “humility” above). But then again, exploring questions that continue to yield nuance and new insights across your life should be part of the point of college. We invite these questions in many places on this campus. It’s happening through informal conversations, advising meetings, student org groups, and cafeteria lunches, as well as in classrooms. I’m grateful that we as a campus community can cultivate space for that reflective work in all sorts of environments and contexts. Because, as most of us already know, that sort of deeper engagement can be hard to find time for elsewhere.
In a recent book project, Meghan Sullivan and Paul Blaschko compellingly differentiate between the approach to what they label the “surveyed life” versus one rooted in reflection and examination, suggesting that there is a persistent pull to skate on the surface rather than probe the depths of messier complexities:
“This survey approach is everywhere in our lives right now. And in the right doses, it can be healthy. Although the constant data collection and behavioral management can get a bit intrusive, there’s a reason we let our phones count our steps, monitor our heart rates, remind us to meditate, and organize reports in easy-to-digest diagrams. . . . Still, the survey approach is radically insufficient to address the bigger questions. A well-lived life is integrated and thoughtful; it doesn’t consist in robotically conforming our lives to whatever the data suggests at the moment…” (9-10).
To put this another way, as much as we might wish or pretend otherwise, we can’t life-hack our way to purpose. Information is not the same as insight. There isn’t “one weird trick” that can magically transport us to a good life.
Rather, we’re called to something more interesting and complicated: an iterative process of discovery and engagement, experiences of reflection and practice that move us beyond ourselves. I know I’m still figuring it out, in community and with the gift of good conversation partners–among them, first-year students raising thoughtful points about vocation on a recent Tuesday morning.
–Dr. Anna Stewart, ILAS Director