The Lie of Well-Roundedness, or Why No Man is Really an Island

I guess I have been meaning for a while now to get this down in writing, but I've been spread thinner than "gold to airy thinness beat" as John Donne so nicely put it. Subsequently it's been bouncing around in my brain, picking up speed until I had a chance to sit down and put paper to pen...or keyboard to screen, in my case. Anyhow, the fact that I've hardly had a minute slow enough to write this just augments the point I've been meaning to make, that I have once again become caught up in the lie of well-roundedness.

Here is what I mean. For as long as I can remember, I have been involved in countless activities which have, thankfully, provided me with copious opportunities to decide who I am and where I'm going. Piano lessons didn't last long. Ballet only slightly longer. Soccer nearly a decade. Show choir. TNT. First Priority. Community Service. Church of God State Youth Leadership. Not to mention school and church. (Is this starting to sound like a resume? I apologize.) And all of this before I received a high school diploma, with honors of course, because universities actually care about that sort of thing (or so I'm told). One would think that when I hit college and started discovering a little bit more about who I was, I would begin to pare down and focus my efforts in one or two directions. On the contrary, my schedule only became more discombobulated with a hectic class schedule now involving professional training time, social justice, various ministries, intramurals, making meals and cleaning house, bible studies, study groups, getting a job, etc. etc. etc. Once in a while I might even revert to satisfying those basic needs like fatigue and hunger.

And I get the creeping feeling that I'm not the only one thinking "Stop the world! I want to get off!" I think this is pretty typical of college students and twenty-somethings, and maybe it gets better with age. Or maybe it gets more monotonous as we learn to handle a hectic routine. But what answer do I so often hear spoken or implied for why I run myself absolutely ragged? "We just want you to be well-rounded."

Oh, well that makes everything worthwhile. Right?? I mean it's great that I can be anything I want to be and that I don't have to worry about being stuck in a job I hate for the rest of my life because I can just change my specialty or get another degree, or six or seven. Surely if nursing doesn't work out I can just be a folk singer, if that fails then a chef, and if all else falls through at least I'll be married by then with 2.47 children and a dog and 3.6 masters degrees and no more clue about where I'm headed than when I moved into my dorm freshman year of college. How encouraging! Maybe I'm exaggerating just a little.

When did everyone become required to be a Jack of all trades instead of just two or three trades, the ones that bring Jack the most joy in life, the one's that best fit Jack's God-given gifts, the gifts that Jill and Joe don't have because they have other gifts that Jack doesn't have? Maybe this is why Jack's feeling pulled apart at the seams. Cultures that appear to us much more "primitive" may just have more of a handle on their own identities in terms of individual giftedness and how they fit into the bigger picture. If they go to college (which, don't get me wrong, I wish everyone could) it's for the purpose of a vocation. If they don't, this specialization starts earlier. But I haven't, in my tiny limited view of others cultures, see such an emphasis on production or convenience or immediacy.

If I am well-rounded, then I can purportedly be self-sustaining, but I don't know if that's such a good idea. If I can be and do everything, then I don't need other people. And they, in their well-rounded individuality don't need me. What happens when I run into something I can't do, or when I get lonely, for crying out loud? How do I communicate that need if I've never needed anyone before? A fine example of this is our world economy, where sweat shop workers are pieces of a well-oiled machine, where exchange is in the form of information, where small farms who aren't using chemicals to produce more faster (or growing too much and then "dumping") are going out of business, and anyone who can't keep up simply perishes. Why buy from a local artist, farmer, tailor, whatever when you can go to Wal-Mart where they have everything?

Because it's cheaper and easier. Because we're stretched to the max with activities from morning until night and we don't have time to take the scenic route. The route where we stop and talk to people along the way. Where we notice when the leaves are changing colors and we are in touch with our families and communities. Where we can be the good samaritan because we're not in a hurry to get to church by 9 o'clock sharp. Where we can read a good book or take a trip to somewhere we've never seen before. Where I need what you give and you need what I give. Where a three-in-one community-oriented God looks with joy on the lovers he made who are pushing and pulling and heaving together, not against each other, and not each on our own isolated road.

"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." -Mother Teresa