Trusting the Call That Knows Your Name
Created at: August 10, 2025
If a thing calls your name, trust that answering it is the point. — Frida Kahlo
Hearing the Quiet Invitation
Kahlo’s line reframes purpose as responsiveness: if something calls you by name, the answering itself is the mission. Rather than treating life as a scavenger hunt for external prizes, it treats attention as a compass. Answering is not a detour from meaning; it is the path. Consequently, the standard calculus of productivity softens, and curiosity, resonance, and fit begin to guide choices. This shift invites a more intimate criterion for action: do I feel summoned, not merely obligated?
Frida Kahlo’s Answer in Paint
To see this principle embodied, consider Kahlo’s biography. After a near-fatal bus accident in 1925, she was confined to bed and began painting with a mirror overhead, turning convalescence into a studio. Works like The Two Fridas (1939) and The Broken Column (1944) transmute pain into presence, as if art kept calling her to name what hurt and what endured. She later attended her first solo exhibition in Mexico (1953) lying in a bed placed in the gallery, dramatizing that showing up is sometimes the bravest answer. Her oft-cited declaration, 'I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality,' condenses this ethos: the call was to witness, not to escape.
From Vocation to Self-Authorship
Beyond her example, the language of calling has deep roots. Vocation comes from the Latin vocare, to call, once tethered to religious duty and now broadened to any work that feels inwardly binding. William James’s The Will to Believe (1897) argues that when a genuine option cannot be decided by evidence alone, our passional nature may rightfully tip the scales; a calling often arrives in just such murky light. Later, Joseph Campbell’s refrain to 'follow your bliss' (The Power of Myth, 1988) popularized the idea that meaning is less discovered than enacted, not by certainty but by commitment.
What Psychology Says About Inner Pulls
Modern research aligns with this intuition. Self-Determination Theory (Deci & Ryan, 1985) shows that acting from intrinsic motives—autonomy, mastery, and connection—predicts greater vitality than chasing external rewards. Likewise, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow (1990) documents how deep engagement arises when challenge meets skill, a signature of answering one’s call. Purpose correlates not only with wellbeing but with longevity; Hill and Turiano (Psychological Science, 2014) found that having a sense of purpose predicted reduced mortality across adulthood. Even our regrets point the way: Gilovich and Medvec (1995) showed that over time we lament inactions more than failed actions, suggesting that not answering the call may cost more than answering imperfectly.
Facing Resistance and Taking the Leap
Even so, calls rarely arrive without friction. Steven Pressfield names this inner drag Resistance (The War of Art, 2002), the force that quivers exactly where our work matters most. Trust does not mean recklessness; it means taking proportionate risks that honor the summons. Small, testable steps—sketches, prototypes, conversations—convert dread into data. As confidence accrues, so does clarity, and what once felt like a gamble becomes a form of fidelity to oneself.
Practices That Help You Answer
Finally, answering is sustained by practice. Create a daily rendezvous with the call: a standing hour, a dedicated desk, or a recurring walk. Keep an evidence log of aliveness to track what activities consistently lift your attention. Kahlo’s illustrated diary (1944–1954) shows how images and words can anchor a life’s throughline. Seek witnesses—teachers, peers, or communities—who can reflect back the sound of your name when you forget it. Set boundaries that protect your rendezvous, because every yes needs a chorus of protective noes. In the end, as Kahlo’s life suggests, the outcome matters, but the faithful answering matters more; it is how a self becomes its work.