Photo credit: Shirley Heinze Land Trust
As my internship continues, I continue looking for a purpose big enough to dominate my life. I’ve always loved reading and since childhood, narratives of grand proportions filled my head, so much so that I’ve come to expect my purpose to be similar to the same characters that had
populated my life. Frequently I find myself looking for a purpose big enough to dominate my own life or appear on some metaphorical horizon. I had expected to see something like a summer thunderhead marching across the sky, or maybe something far away but with a promise of grandeur like the Chicago skyline as seen from the Indiana Dunes National Park.
This summer, and especially the CAPS internship has set my mind on a future that I am
typically happy to ignore. My previous blog post mainly talked about my refusal to truly think
about vocation in a real sense, but I’ve realized that I have been expecting a lot out of myself
unconsciously. That looming purpose, I now realize, was meant to be just that, looming and out
of reach. An imposing storm front that would never rain, and a city that would always be
shrouded in mist. A thing that is always there to look at and admire, but I could never touch the
clouds, or wander the far away city. To be honest, I’m a little disappointed in myself as I have
always left the infinite to others, and to the realm of impossibility for me.
As I considered the issue more, I realized that I associate that huge imposing cloud with works
and people who I admire the most, but don’t personally know and probably do not entirely
understand. Things and people who have pointed to or embodied something bigger than myself.
Therefore, I cannot or will not attempt to reach it. Unfortunately, the irony of this situation was
lost to me until I relatively recently. By separating myself from these big things I’ve also made
myself relatively isolated, and less able to connect with the immediate things which populate my
life. I’ve also denied myself the opportunity to grow or stretch beyond my perceived limitations.
Recently, I have been reading Ted Kooser’s Kindest Regards and the author’s focus on the
beauty of locality has steered in another direction. With the help of Kooser, it has become more
apparent to me that those little kernels of meaning and beauty that can be found anywhere
contain storm clouds, and the seemingly small things will swell to the size of hurricanes if given
the chance.
To be honest, I’m not sure what to do with this realization. I certainly don’t have all the answers
right now, but I am part excited, and part nervous about what my life may look like going
forward. In the meantime, I’ll make sure to be more aware of the kernels which keep piling up.
As for a concise and satisfying conclusion? I’ll leave that for the next internship which is only a
short Junior year away.
-Korbin Opfer, Shirley Heinze Land Trust Intern