Quatrains for a Calling

By Peter Cole

Why are you here?

Who have you come for

and what would you gain?

Where is your fear?

Why are you here?

You’ve come so near,

or so it would seem;

you can see the grain

in the paper — that’s clear.

But why are you here

when you could be elsewhere,

earning a living

or actually learning?

Why should we care

why you’re here?

Is that a tear?

Yes, there’s pressure

behind the eyes —

and there are peers.

But why are you here?

At times it sears.

The pressure and shame

and the echoing pain.

What do you hear

now that you’re here?

The air’s so severe.

It calls for equipment,

which comes at a price.

And you’ve volunteered.

Why? Are you here?

What will you wear?

What will you do

if it turns out you’ve failed?

How will you fare?

Why are you here

when it could take years

to find out — what?

It’s all so slippery,

and may not cohere.

And yet, you’re here ...

Is it what you revere?

How deep does that go?

How do you know?

Do you think you’re a seer?

Is that why you’re here?

Do you have a good ear?

For praise or for verse?

Can you handle a curse?

Define persevere.

Why are you here?

* * * * * *

I strolled into a bookstore and walked right into this poem- read by its author, a crazy-haired professor from Yale. I think maybe fate matched us up.

In the past several months I have repeatedly asked myself the question"Why am I here?," in Iowa of all places. Not in a self-loathing, regretful way, but part of genuine soul-searching. My little 5-person family emptied our lives this summer when we packed our moving truck in Maryland. Somehow life still hasn't filled up the same way it did in other moves.

Much of the reason I'm here in Iowa is to become a physical therapist. When I applied to University of Iowa's Doctorate of Physical Therapy program in July I felt like I'd nailed it. My letters of rec were outstanding, my essays were spot on. My grades, GRE, and tally of clinical hours were competitive. I applied early, as urged by the program website, and I nervously waited for feedback. I put pressure upon myself, laid on thick. The longer I held out, the more my confidence diminished. Then one prohibitively cold evening in December an email snuck into my inbox inviting me to an interview. It's not a freebie at this point, but I'm in a good position. (Last year Iowa accepted 36/540 applicants, interviewed 75/540.)

It's important to remember that we all forfeit something in order to live the lives we inhabit. There is opportunity cost even for keeping the status quo. That's why monitoring our course is crucial. It's important to ask ourselves if we're extracting what we want out of life. I am aware that I could be living a life somewhere else- in a place less hum-drum, where life feels more rich - DC, London, Utah, Alaska. I acknowledge that going to physical therapy school isn't something I have to do. I realize that there are people in my life that are not a fan of my plan- that it will introduce too much disruption. But I also believe that there is more than one valid path for us to take. We all are obligated to take our best stab at life. This is me doing just that. God will help but ultimately it is up to us to do the work.
That's why I'm here.