Saturday found me wandering some sites around Moscow, and I eventually found my way into the Christ the Savior Temple. This temple actually has a really fun history, being demolished under soviet antireligious campaign, the area was used as a giant swimming pool for years. Near the end of the Soviet Union, the enormous temple was reconstructed and has graced the Moscow skyline ever since.
Anyway, I dropped by on Saturday and there was a service going on. It didn't seem like anything particularly different than what I've seen before until out of the iconostasis marched a procession of priests, among whom was this man:
His name is Kirill, and he's the head patriarch for all of Rus'. I was sort of blown away at the beauty of the service. There were two magnificent choirs belting out prayers along with the priests in one of the most impressively gaudy buildings in Moscow. With few exceptions the congregation dropped to their knees as Kirill marched out and began the service. That felt a bit uncomfortable, so I backed away a bit to not interfere. I left the service in a ponderous mood.
Anyway, I dropped by on Saturday and there was a service going on. It didn't seem like anything particularly different than what I've seen before until out of the iconostasis marched a procession of priests, among whom was this man:
His name is Kirill, and he's the head patriarch for all of Rus'. I was sort of blown away at the beauty of the service. There were two magnificent choirs belting out prayers along with the priests in one of the most impressively gaudy buildings in Moscow. With few exceptions the congregation dropped to their knees as Kirill marched out and began the service. That felt a bit uncomfortable, so I backed away a bit to not interfere. I left the service in a ponderous mood.
This is going to be a bit of a jump in the topic, but watching this procession sort of got me thinking about the individual lives of each of the priests. They each took vows of dedication sealing them to this path for their entire life. What does it take for a person to completely dedicate themselves to one thing? Here's the jump...I can see this same level of dedication in many of my friends, but in various aspects of life (school, work, athletics). It's one of the hardest things in life to be absolutely passionate about something. I look at my own life and I must admit that I'm equally passionate about, for example, my schoolwork as I am about the pastries they sell in the bakery downstairs (most likely less actually).
One friend has mentioned her belief that unless you are dedicated to an extreme level, you are only a poseur. When I initially heard this theory I rejected it, and argued vehemently against it. However, as time goes on my opinion wavers, and I find myself wondering what things I really am just pretending to be. What masks have I put on to hide whatever's underneath? This is hardly the forum to take off my masks, but I'd really like to believe that at least sometimes I'm not just a poseur.
I'm not convinced that people who are completely dedicated to something are more genuine, or more real. That's not the point I'm driving at. I think I'm trying to say that it sort of feels empty not having a passion, so that's why I fill the emptiness with sweet, sweet pastries.
I really agree with the idea that unless you are fully committed, you are something of a fraud. I just find it very difficult to really find that something. I've tried my hand at so many things, and time and time again, I find that I do not really want to pursue that thing to its fullest. I have become a jack of many trades, master of none...or maybe one. This is somewhat reflected in my career, in that I am a generalist attorney...with my only real specialty being that I know the ins and outs of my business and can advise accordingly.
ReplyDeleteSo this is my life's quandary: live a life of broad mediocrity (or satisfaction in knowing about a lot of things), or find something that I may not necessarily love, but completely master, fully immersed, and totally dedicated. I find this same approach to travel: I haven't found really any place that I love so much that I would prefer to go there more than others. So I keep searching. I have visited so many places, and have lived in quite a few, too. I just haven't found "that" place (some might argue that I haven't found a "home").
So you pose quite the question. Am I living my life as a professional poseur, or have I found happiness in living life in broad strokes?
I disagree with the idea that you have to be extremely passionate about one thing to be genuine or interesting. What a boring life to only concentrate on one thing all the time! I have a neighbor who is passionate about training for an Ironman. This is certainly a challenge, and he devotes at least 20 hours per week to training. Unfortunately talking to him can sometimes be very boring, unless you want to talk about training for the Ironman. I kind of view your hobbies and interests as legs of a table. If you've only got one leg, your table isn't very stable, and could topple very easily. What if the fantastic painter goes blind, or the great runner breaks his leg? But if you are interested in many things, you can never run out of genuinely interesting things to do and talk about.
ReplyDeleteI'm learning to turn a table leg on my wood lathe. How's that for a new hobby?
ReplyDeleteI agree with Ryan. If you take the view that anyone that isn't fully committed is a poser, you're left with maybe five people in the world that aren't posers. No matter how much I get into Dr. Who, some unemployed person in Westchestire will be into it even more than I am, which would make me a poser when we talk. (Forgive me if I'm misunderstanding.)
ReplyDeleteThere's often more value in breadth than depth. Most creativity isn't about creating something from nothing, but about applying a concept from one field to another. Those with breadth become the creators.