The Velveteen Rabbit* and me

It's been an interesting summer!  Back in May I retired from my full-time work teaching World Religions and providing research support at the college where I taught.  I'd intended to return part-time to provide academic support to first-year students, but the conversations regarding the terms of that new position didn't proceed as anticipated.  By mid-July I realized that there were likely other positions in my area that could be a good fit for my background and experience.  Lo and behold, within a month I was offered a part-time position as chaplain at our local hospital.  There are more reflections to be mined from that process, but for now I'd like to share one particular thought that came to me along the way.

My experience in my previous work situation was complex, nuanced, and often contradictory, as indeed most work environments turn out to be. I loved my students, and most of my colleagues, and most of the time I was engaged in labor that felt useful and meaningful.  But there were parts of the job that were also boring, or irritating, at times downright insulting.  The world of higher education is struggling just now, especially small, residential, liberal education institutions.  An atmosphere of near-panic crept into my institution around 2008, and never really got better.  That's a long time to live in a state of anxiety.  One's spirit tends to sag after years of being told that the subjects and disciplines to which one has become devoted (Humanities, the Arts, History, Philosophy) are not going to keep the college afloat, and need to be cut.  That's a long time to hurt for the students and faculty who also love those areas of study. That kind of long-term abrasion of the soul just wears you down; at least, it wore me down.

And that's where the Velveteen Rabbit comes in.  Early in the story of the Velveteen Rabbit this lovely soft toy encounters the idea of becoming Real.  He's not sure what that means, or how it happens, so the Skin Horse, a very old toy in the nursery, explains it to him.  "It doesn't happen all at once.... It takes a long time....  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

And that's how it feels to me -- as though layers of stuff that had served me well enough for a time have finally been rubbed away.  While the world of education has provided a good and honorable living for a long time, this new opportunity feels like a return to an older deeper sense of self, a return to the role of priest and pastor that I was before arriving at the college. It feels as though I'm finally becoming more Real.  Will that turn out to be true?  Time will tell. 

*If you're not familiar with it, do read this wonderful book. The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams.