Yesterday I celebrated Independence Day with friends at a BBQ.  We scarfed down hot dogs, chicken, and ribs (burp), and enjoyed a hot summer day while the kids splashed around in the pool and we grownups dipped in the hot tub.  We also chatted about the state of the Union, and agreed that there are a lot of faces without noses in Washington, D. C.

When I was a kid I threatened more than once to run away from home because I didn’t like the restrictions my parents put on me.  “Anything must be better than this,” I thought.

In response to my threats my mother always said, “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I thought. Fortunately, I never actually ran away, or experienced losing the food and shelter that my parents provided. I didn’t make my own situation worse to make a point.  My nose stayed attached to my face.

But what about all those political faces in Washington, D.C.?  Maybe it started with the election of Barack Obama and the stated mission of Mitch McConnell who said, “Our top political priority over the next two years should be to deny president Obama a second term.”

I assume that meant that if the economy suffered, if more people lost their jobs, and if education continued to go down the drain, then the party out of power would benefit. The thinking, then and now, seems to be that if I cut off your nose you will vote for my face.

My purpose here is not to take sides.  Like a caring parent, I don’t care who started the fight, I only want my children to get along with each other.  I want them to realize that while they will have separate points of view and different interests and abilities, they are part of a single family and can accomplish more together than separately.

If Senator McConnell’s wish had come true, then perhaps Mitt Romney would be president today.  And then Harry Reid, in charge of the Democrats in the United States Senate, might work to undermine President Romney’s policies and announce, “Our top political priority over the next two years should be to deny President Romney a second term.”

Isn’t this more than a little childish?  Doesn’t a “scorched earth” policy invite little more than retaliation?  Isn’t it just like my eight-year-old threat to run away, to cut off my nose to spite my face?

So while public servants in Washington, D.C. and elsewhere are returning from their own celebrations of Independence Day, I suggest that they consider earning their salaries by serving the public instead of sabotaging anyone who disagrees with them.  How about volunteering one day a week at a school or hospital to set a good example?  How about having a live two-hour podcast with their constituents once a week to listen to and publically respond to the people’s concerns?  How about helping us out, rather than snipping noses?

Many voters in America have talked about running away to another country (New Zealand, anyone?) if one candidate or the other becomes president.  I say let’s stay right here and continue, as many of us do, to help each other out.

This is why my belated Independence Day message to all elected officials is this:

Your job is to help us.  So both this year and next compromise with the other party and actually accomplish something affirmative.  Put your nose back on your face, and we will be happy to vote for you again.

Alan

Some of us know our mission in life at an early age.  Some of us never know. But if we let ourselves really think about it most of us would realize, in our bellies or in our brains, what we’re meant to do in this life.

Sprite knew at an early age that she was sent to help others.  When she was a freshman in college she worked two or three jobs to earn the money to put herself through school.  She also found time to volunteer at the Minneapolis Crisis Nursery.

The Crisis Nursery is for parents who are in the midst of a crisis and who need to bring their young children to a temporary place of safety.

On one particular day a two-year-old boy was dropped off. He was crying.  The boy was assigned to Sprite, who was asked to help him fall asleep. Sprite was eighteen.  She had never put a toddler to sleep before.  She felt totally unprepared, but let her instincts take over.

Sprite told the little boy a story to calm him.  Then she lay down with him on a cot, held him to her chest, and gently patted his back.  Soon he was asleep.

We’ll never know where the boy came from, or what his life was like after he left the center.  We do know this small slice of his two-year-old life for the few hours while he slept in Sprite’s arms.  And we know something more.

“When he fell asleep in my arms,” Sprite told me, “I knew I had fulfilled my mission.  I had helped another human being and it was all right for me to die.”  As an adult Sprite recognizes that her thought may have been a bit melodramatic, but it was real for her at the time.

My father is almost one-hundred and two years old.  I was with him yesterday at an exhibition at the Laguna Art Museum.  “When people ask me what I do each day,” he said, jokingly, “I tell them that I loaf.”  That’s not quite true.  My dad is thinking all of the time.

Most of us are busy all of the time.  Perhaps we feel that we need to call one more friend, send one more text, or finish just one more project for the day.  Perhaps we are just fending off boredom or unconsciously holding at bay a sense of being useless or unneeded.  Perhaps we need to work two jobs.

But maybe, like my dad, we should allow ourselves the freedom to loaf a bit.  Maybe, like Sprite, we should dedicate ourselves to helping others.

When my first daughter was four she asked, “Why are we here?”

Then she answered her own question.  “I know. To use the earth.”

I’ve thought about this for years, and I have never found a better answer except, perhaps, the answer that Sprite discovered, and lives – to help others.

You might think about what you really want to accomplish in your life. What do you have a deep need to do?  What is your own internal need, rather than the role that has been thrust upon you either by circumstances or by others? I encourage you to live your destiny:  When you do, nothing will stop you.

I was in the audience when a good friend delivered his high school commencement speech.  A woman sitting near me pointed to the speaker and muttered to her companion, “Rabble rouser.  Dangerous.”

Maybe my role is to be a rabble rouser, to get you to think about your life and encourage you to live it to the fullest so that when the time inexorably comes you can say to yourself, with a full heart, “I have fulfilled my mission and now I can die.”

Peace.

Alan

Last night Sprite fell asleep in my arms snuggling against my chest.  I felt and heard her soft breath.  The awareness that accompanies awakeness had disappeared.

This morning at breakfast I was reading the newspaper. Sprite said she likes to watch me when I’m concentrating.  In those moments she sees the pure me, the innocent me, and feels loving, just as I did when she fell asleep last night.

Like all actors, we put on a show when we think others are watching us.  We clean ourselves up and poke that piece of spinach off of our front teeth.  We present the person we want others to see.

How different are you when you know others are watching?  Do you pull in your tummy or stand a little taller?  Do you check your makeup or comb your hair?  Do you put a smile or a frown on your face?  I always smile when I walk into my office because I don’t want everyone to spend the day talking about why I wasn’t in a good mood.  I used to frown when my wife was watching and I wanted her to know how upset I was with her.

Does putting on this show serve us well?

Sometimes yes.  As I’ve previously mentioned, current research says that when you put a smile on your face you feel better.  In many cases, the makeup or the clothes do make the woman, or the man.  We feel more confident, act more self-assured, and as a result our lives and relationships improve.

And sometimes no.  Everything we do – every activity, every relationship, and every moment – has a cost.  When I distance myself from my true appearance or my actual feelings I deprive you, and me, of my truth. In living a life of partial deceit, I am never fully comfortable with my real self.

So it comes down to this: when we’re not putting on a show for the rest of the world, who are we?  What is our truth?  Even if our truth is not so attractive, isn’t your life, or mine, more meaningful, satisfying and worthwhile when we are willing to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and our humanness, flaws and all, to shine through?

I know one thing for sure.  When I’m not putting on a show for others I’m more relaxed.  I don’t have to monitor myself or worry about their reactions. I can enjoy spending time with someone who feels connected – even when she is just watching me read the morning newspaper.

So exactly who are you when no one is looking?  Are you yourself, or a celluloid stand in?  Which do you want to be?

There is one more question you might consider:

Who are you when you are not looking at yourself?

Alan