To have a purpose

Graduation looms. The real world stares us in the face. It demands decisions. The choice is between two broad conceptions of reality. In one, we, as individuals, have a calling—a part to play in a meta-narrative. In the other, there exists no such concept that provides context to our existence, so you do as you please.

To have a calling, or at the least to believe in its existence, can utterly overturn one’s post-college trajectory. Sure, the job search continues—no respite there. What changes is that the job search ceases to be a free-for-all rat race for the highest paying or most prestigious position within reach. In its place, a more meaningful exploration of the future emerges. The search goes beyond just getting by, to doing what we are meant—perhaps made—to do.

The effects of a calling should not be mysterious to anyone who has taken Literature Humanities. Take for example Don Quixote and his valiant attempts to woo Dulcinea del Toboso by pursuing the most incredible feats of a knight errant. Though utterly insane, Quixote embodies what it means to have a purpose and a calling. We witness the transformation from a lonely, old, hermitic man to an energetic, resilient, and unstoppable emblem of chivalry. Misguided and delusional though he might be, his transformation does not hit far off the mark. A calling is an incredible thing—it focuses a person’s skills, passions, and education into a cohesive and powerful stream.

Of course, there are better examples of intentional lives in Lit Hum—Aeneas, Achilles, or even Elizabeth Bennet. Each has a calling or a purpose that comes to fruition (sometimes tragically) and, for example, reveals that a different man could not have founded Rome. What these tales show is that the prospect of purpose engages the human soul to achieve authentic greatness. This is the reason we neither read about nor feel inspired by characters who pursue life based on what path is most lucrative, productive, prestigious, or popular.

The problem is as you suspect: A calling is very hard to find, let alone follow. Delphi isn’t as instructive as it once was and Jane Austen is not composing our love lives. Instead, we live in an age of seeming randomness and chance. To top it all, we run the risk of pursuing a path that may seem as ill-conceived as Quixote’s. However, I find the problem of finding a calling to be of less importance to us at this point in our lives than the issue of believing that callings and purposes exist. That is the choice which will make the difference.

Naturally, the CCE is unlikely to be the one to tell us this. Its job is to help us find jobs we desire in the industry. Our advisors, unless they’re the really good ones, will be unwilling to prompt such personal deliberations. It is entirely up to us to consider this idea for ourselves, and, sadly, we rarely get deep into the implications. When was the last time you had a conversation about whether our futures hold more than a string of directionless career decisions?

This sort of inquiry does not have to approach the gravity of the age-old question of what exactly the meaning of life is. Instead, it stops at the more fundamental: is there a purpose? We have plenty of time to figure out what the purpose may be, but the decision about its possibility has an immediacy to it. It has an impact on how we approach this period of life where our career is as blank as it ever will be. With graduation, we set the tone of the steps we take from here. We cannot afford to procrastinate about this one.

I envision the results of either choice in terms of momentum. To the student who embraces the postmodern viewpoint of random chance and the absence of life narratives, I can only imagine a mode of life that makes each choice separately. Without a route of some sort, each decision is just as arbitrary and meaningless as the next. The only factors of importance are the tangibles—the salary, the quality of life, and the workplace environment.

With even a slight conception of an individual purpose, a mission, the choices we make about future employment become building blocks to something greater. There is a final goal to strive for—a job that must be done which transcends employment or occupation. If there is a purpose, then there is a life enhanced by inspiration and possibility. We’re free to choose between the two beliefs. I’m sticking with purpose. Try it.

Derek Turner is a Columbia College junior majoring in anthropology and political science. Opening Remarks runs alternate Mondays.