In the first of our Lent series in which contributors select a book that helped them through a difficult patch in their lives, a celebrated spiritual writer recalls the chance discovery of a memoir that opened the door to a life of purpose and beauty

In the first of our Lent series in which contributors select a book that helped them through a difficult patch in their lives, a celebrated spiritual writer recalls the chance discovery of a memoir that opened the door to a life of purpose and beauty

When I was 25 years old, I felt trapped. After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business, I had taken a job with General Electric, where I expected to work for my entire life.

My first assignment was as a management trainee in GE’s international finance division in New York City. Of course, New York is always exciting, but for a 21-year-old college graduate in the 1980s, a “yuppie” if ever there was one, it was thrilling: a sizeable pay cheque, a cupboard full of expensive suits, a city full of clubs and lots of partying, drinking and dancing. After a few years, I moved ­further north, to Connecticut, with GE Capital, a division that was then a roaring success. I took a job in human resources, running a corporate training programme. In terms of my professional goals, I should have been completely satisfied.

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