What does it mean in life to stand with a horizon before you? At different times in my life I’ve thought of the horizon as a limit, choosing not the venture toward it lest I fall off the face of the earth. Now is a time in my life when I am clearly experiencing the horizon as an invitation. There’s a Latin word fascinans that captures this – the horizon can be a bit of a flirt, drawing us ever on.
One of the poems I most enjoyed teaching was Tennyson’s Ulysses. The last lines of that poem serve in many regards as a sort of prayer for me (A note to my former students in English class -- See a memorized poem is a vademecum for living!):
Though much is taken, much abides; and thoughI don’t want to over-romanticize this move ahead, though. No Dr. Livingstone here, I assure you, Mr. Stanley! If I didn’t think it was an invasion of privacy, I would have taken a picture of the
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Maasai warrior tending his herd and talking on his mobile!There is an irony in all of this – several, actually, but one is this: along the way of my career, folks have talked about my possibly serving as the president of a Jesuit high school or serving in some administrative capacity in higher education. In fact, in the course of the last two years I was approached by three of our high schools and one of our Jesuit universities relative to serving in such capacities. I’ve been uncertain about serving in such positions. And here I am, heading to a very uncertain position in many ways, but with greater certainty – a certainty that surprises most especially me. As C+C Music Factory might put it: Things that Make You go Hmmmm
No comments:
Post a Comment