I found this to be profound. In the Author’s Note to The Life of Pi, Yann Martel describes what it’s like to let a thing go even though you know how good that thing should be. In this case, his “thing” is a novel:

Really, your story can only be great. But it all adds up to nothing. In spite of the obvious, shining promise of it, there comes a moment when you realize that the whisper that has been pestering you all along from the back of your mind is speaking the flat, awful truth: it won't work. An element is missing, that spark that brings to life a real story... Your story is emotionally dead, that's the crux of it. The discovery is something soul-destroying, I tell you. It leaves you with an aching hunger.

The rest of the novel ain't so bad, either.

From The Old Testament Made Easy (Jeanne Steig), the following poem:

A Romance

Jacob fancied Cousin Rachel,
Uncle Laban’s comely child.
Seven years he toiled to earn her,
While her glances drove him wild.

When at last his bride was bedded,
Jacob drew the veil to kiss her.
Under it was Cousin Leah,
Rachel’s older, squint-eyed sister.

“Be not so distraught,” said Laban.
“Though at first she looks alarming,
Leah’s fun. I’ll throw in Rachel—
All for seven years of farming!

“Only seven more, dear nephew,
For the pair. You find that shocking?
Rachel will divert you nicely,
Leah darns a dandy stocking.

“Take the two. And take their handmaids—
This, I think, is rather lavish—
Saucy Bilhah, nubile Zilpah.
Both of them are yours to ravish!”

Leah bore him seven children,
Zilpah had a couple more.
Rachel and her handmaid, Bilhah,
Managed yet another four.

One of Leah’s was a daughter.
Sons made up the other dozen.
All twelve tribes of Israel sprang from
Jacob’s craving for his cousin.

(h/t Fosteronomo)

Not only do we not choose our vocation, but, strictly speaking, we do not find our vocation, as if it is something unknown, awaiting us in the future. Rather, our vocation is already here, where we are and what we are doing right now.
    Certainly we may have different callings as we go through life, and we may be preparing for some future goal. But that must not be allowed to obscure the fact that the relationships, duties, and daily work that God has given to each of us right now is a divine and holy calling from the Lord.
    ...
    The doctrine of vocation, though it has to do with human work, is essentially about God’s work and how God works in and through our lives. Finding our vocation is not just “finding my lifework,” nor even “finding what God wants me to do.” Though these may be part of the vocational cross we have to struggle with, finding our vocation is largely a matter of finding where God is, the God who hides himself in our neighbors, in ourselves, and in His world. Once we notice the Hidden God and realize how He is at work—in the workplace, families, the community, and the church—and when we realize the part we play in His design, we have found our vocation.

The one thing I did Sunday that didn’t involve church, food, sleep, or my getting trounced in word games was my unpacking of my book boxes.

The stack of books is still on the floor, but with them all out in the open like that, I can see what I have, what I’ve read, and I what I should re-read. Here is what I have tentatively added to my reading list, all of which come from my books on hand.

• Catch-22, Heller
• God at Work, Veith
• The Best of Verity Stob, Stob (borrowed book that I forgot I had)
• Wild at Heart, Eldredge
• The Visual Display of Quantitative Information, Tufte
• Envisioning Information, Tufte
• Visual Explanations, Tufte

And here's where I weenie out and beg for mercy in accountability: Sure, I made a list, but don't hold me to it. :)