Reflecting on a Mary Oliver poem, Parker Palmer wrote: “Twenty years ago, as I began to deal with the realities of aging, I began asking myself two questions: “What do I need to let go of? What do I want to hang onto?”
I still ask the first question, but the second no longer works for me. As life constantly reminds us, we can’t “hang on” to what we love—all of it will take its leave sooner or later. I’m grateful that I was given a different question to ask: “What do I want to give myself to?”
Trying to hang on to what I treasure defies the law of life, and it’s a needy, clingy, scarcity-based way of being in the world. But asking what I want to give myself to directs me toward places where I can find meaning, energy, and a reminder of life’s abundance.
For me, at least, What do I want to give myself to? is a question that can open a path with a heart.
Like the chambered nautilus, we build new chambers to house new stages of our lives. This question What do I want to give myself to? is one I find very helpful as I consider how the latest chamber of my life will be furnished. Perhaps it might be a helpful question for you, too. There’s a quality about that question that is so different from “What do I want to do with my life?” Pause for a moment and feel the difference between the two.
First, let’s see what happens and how we feel when we ask ourselves this question: “What do I want to do with my life?”
What happens and how do we feel when we ask the question “What do I want to give myself to?”
When I feel my way into the first question, about what I want to do with my life, I am aware that my brain is starting to draw up lists of good things to do—things that benefit other people, some things that would be good for me. I experience the question mainly in my head, even though I’m trying to also listen to my heart. I also experience a bit of pressure—the question seems to imply that I need to know the answer and that I ought to be doing things.
When I feel my way into the second question, about what I want to give myself to, I have a sense of spaciousness, a sense of invitation. The question invites me to sit with it awhile and get in touch with my yearnings and with how I want to be in the world. It also invites energy that will flow through and out from me, joining a flow of energy already in motion rather than trying to make something happen through my “doing.”
It reminds me that we are here to give of ourselves to one another, just as every other being gives of itself and receives what others give, in a wonderful reciprocal dance.
What do I want to give myself to? Has an element of holiness, a quality of spiritual offering, and there’s an element of love implied. As Kate Wolf’s song says, “You must give yourself to love if love is what you’re after.”
Some of us may have been able to answer this question of what we want to give ourselves to very specifically. Perhaps you said “I want to give myself to conservation efforts,” or “I want to give myself to prayer and contemplation.” Perhaps you didn’t hear anything specific but realized that you want to live in a way that is open and to give of yourself. We may find it to be a helpful question to carry with us as a companion.
We might use it as a spiritual query.
When we feel disturbed and anxious, we might ask ourselves if this is what we want to give ourselves to; when we are bitter or angry at someone, Is this what we want to give ourselves to?
Sometimes when we’re unsure what we want to give ourselves to, it can be helpful to see how it feels inside us to say “yes” and imagine as fully as possible taking that course of action. Does it feel exciting, like an energizing adventure? Does it feel really daunting and anxiety-provoking?
Once we’ve lived with the “yes” option for a while, then we can see how it feels inside to say “no” and imagine as fully as possible what that would mean. Do we feel relieved or disappointed? Do we feel assured or as if we’re missing a good opportunity?
It’s not that we don’t engage our reason and our intellect; both intellect and emotions are vital in any decision-making.
However, there is another element at play here, which is our spiritual connection and yielding to God’s guidance. This goes beyond engaging our intellect or paying attention to how things feel.
Sometimes the Spirit urges us in a particular direction and we don’t understand why. It’s not that we neglect the work of reason or of getting in touch with feelings, but that we want to respond faithfully to the promptings of the Spirit. I don’t know about you, but I like things to make sense and to know “why” something is or isn’t the way to go—but sometimes we just have to follow without knowing why.
Sometimes, after thinking everything through and feeling pretty good about a direction we might take, we feel a stop, as Quakers say—to which it is equally important to pay attention. Dwelling in the place of uncertainty is uncomfortable, but it’s one of the aspects of faithfulness. Whether the prompting is to act or to refrain from action, by paying attention to those promptings in small ways we learn to better recognize and distinguish the Spirit’s voice from our own will.
This question, What do I want to give myself to? is going to remain with me, much as What does love require of me? has proven itself to be so helpful a guide. Being asked the right question, one which invites us to get in touch with mind, body, and spirit—our whole being—is powerful. And these both work well for communities too:
What does love require of us?
What do we want to give ourselves to?