Some of you may be imagining a yellow LP cover bearing the image of a man in a straw hat–good–but I will propose another answer here. I’m writing very quickly because I need to get to the office, so I invoke, even more strenuously than usual, my blogger’s rights: if I mess this up, I get to try again later. Work in progress, quarter-baked, huh? etc.
Shannon’s latest post over at Loaded Learning is remarkable even for her, and that’s saying something. It’s got me in a deep mull. Go read it, and after you catch your breath, come back. I’ll wait.
Jeff’s comment is precise: “I am wholly unfit, but I am willing. Consider yourselves warned†could well be the motto for the entire caravan. I’d like one of those bumper stickers too, please. Perfect. Perfect.
But still I mull on. I think, “is it true that Shannon is nothing ‘particularly special’?” I have an answer; I am bold to say I have the answer to that question. It is not true that Shannon is nothing particularly special. I know she’s not fishing for compliments and I know that disagreeing with her statement could make her think that I think that she is–but I just have to ignore those crisscross thoughts and get to the point and say, “if Shannon’s nothing particularly special, then no one is particularly special, and I’m being inspired by echoes in my own brain,” which I don’t believe for a second.
That said, I understand, deeply I believe, where Shannon’s statement comes from. Even more deeply, I understand how confusing it can be to feel privileged, to feel chosen, to feel called. Why me? Why Shannon? Why here, and now, are we entrusted with energy and strength and vision and a community of astonishing, continually inspiring caravanistas? And then, aren’t we arrogant to think so? And then comes the spiral downward … but that’s no good either, right? And when things go wrong, did we lose our calling? Were we wrong all along? Hearing things?
Which brings me to the point, if I have one: if “unfit” means “out of shape, not strong enough, not ready, not devoted enough, not focused enough, not confident enough,” then I am unfit, for sure. But if unfit means unworthy–and I know Shannon may not have meant it that way–I’m not sure. Turning my gaze outward, I feel very sure indeed of the worth of my fellow caravanistas. Part of that feeling comes from my inventory of their particular gifts–inventorying others’ gifts is one of the best parts of being a teacher, actually–but there’s that other part too, that understands and loves their capacity for what Keats calls the “wild surmise,” the catch in the breath that acknowledges the possibility of something transformative, the capacity to hear a calling and follow it. Isn’t that readiness a kind of fitness, a kind of “worth,” even if one doesn’t remember deciding to be ready? (The ending of Simak’s “Immigrant” always gets to me in this regard.)
Energized by Shannon’s post, thrashing about like a fish in a Gallilean net, caught and loving it–maybe air is breathable after all?–I turn to the OED to investigate the etymology of this word “worth.” The meaning very quickly centers on notions of value, particularly in exchange for things. I turn my empty soul pockets inside out and say, “that is not what I meant, at all.” There’s another meaning, “manure.” Oops. The OED says that’s probably a mistake.
I want to wrestle a little longer. I see that I may be forcing connections in the best folk-etymology fashion. (That’s for my philologist colleague Terry the K.) But I need the poetry. And then, there it is, in the first entry for “worth” as a verb (spidey-sense tingling like mad, now): the word “worth” seems to be related to the word “ward,” as in direction: “forward,” “backward,” “homeward,” “heavenward”:
Common Teut.: OE. weor
an, wur
, wurdon,
eworden) = OFris. wertha, wirtha, wirda (WFris. wirde), OS. wer
an (MLG. and LG. werden; MDu. and Du. worden), OHG. werdan, werthan (MHG. and G. werden), ON. and Icel. ver
re, OSlav. vr
t
it (vártat
, vartti) to turn, the sense in Germanic having developed into that of ‘to turn into’, ‘to become’. Cf. -WARD suffix.
Go look for yourself. It’s worth it, and so are you.
For a post that was written very quickly, I’m amazed at where you have taken my post. In true Gardner fashion you have taken it even farther and I’m challenged to look harder at what I wrote and what I meant and for that I thank you. You continually challenge me to reach down deeper. At times I have felt like Jacob wrestling through the night, and it has been worth it in the end.
Indeed when I said unfit I meant it more along the lines of “not focused enough, not confident enough” but I can see how unfit easily could be taken as unworthy. Although I do have my moments where I feel very unworthy I try to keep it in perspective and to realize my momentary feelings of unworthiness are not at all true and never will be true.
Bringing in the etymology of worth was very apt and if you have time I’d like to discuss it more.
I don’t remember deciding to be ready (do I ever feel like I’m ready?) but like in the “Immigrant” sometimes we have made the decision without realizing it. On a side note, when I finished reading “Immigrant” for the first time I could not stop grinning and may have been guilty of doing a little dance, magic.
Being a young journeyer on the caravan it is a blessing to have so many experienced travelers willing to take the time to guide me, correct me, praise me, enlighten me, challenge me, encourage me, and care about me. Thank you.
Ah, you got the Jacob allusion–of course you did!–I am very happy that you did. Jacob’s dreams and wrestling matches are deeply important to me. Matters to discuss on our next coffee-klatsch.
And it pleases me deeply that you did a little magic dance when you first read “Immigrant.”
Such an inspiration you are. Thank *you*.
Gardner and Shannon,
Both of your blog posts really inspired me. They were simply awesome. Vocations or “callings” have been an important subject to me this past year. I wrote my own blog post this morning here:
http://christabelbythesea.blogspot.com/
{let me know if the link works}