On the last page of the latest issue of the Utne Reader, there is an article about Tony Deifell, a photographer who had a 12 year old ask him the question, “Why do you do what you do?” He found it more difficult to answer this to him than to the regular stream of people (read the article).

I suppose the most difficult person to answer this question to would be ourselves. So, in true Socratic form, this is a good question to regularly ask ourselves, and I thought that I would respond and explain myself… mainly to myself.

I would like to think that I am so complicated, that I would have to explain a myriad of decisions and activities that define “what I do.” Perhaps myriad is too high a number. Still, let me touch on my most important and all-encompassing project in my life right now— being a daddy.

My decision to be a father was conscious and pre-meditated, and not the result of passion or the by-product of some other desire. I wanted to be a father. However, I don’t think I would recommend it to too many people. Being a parent goes against this selfish and materialistic culture that we’ve created here in America.

I’ve been reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, The Miracle of Mindfulness where he describes spending one day each week being mindful from slowly, but consciously getting out of bed to taking a long time to drink your tea to a leisurely walk at night… clearly he is talking to either monks, nuns or single people.

For the parent of babies is awaken by the screams of a little one. It is true that tea is taken sip by sip, but inbetween feeding one baby and changing the diaper of another until the tea is cold and unfinished. Walks before bedtime are spent walking in a large circle around the room humming a lullaby to comfort a little one with a tummy ache.

Being a parent is a spiritual endeavor, and looking at a monk on his retreat from the world seems to be an easy cop-out. Its easy to be calm and holy when there is no calamity. There be the challenge! To be mindful and serene when your meditation cushion is covered in smeared oatmeal and colored markers.

My wife and I look enviously at friends of ours who go on week-long vacations and retreats and sleep in past 9— and call them selfish. But my monastery is a nursery littered with plastic toys and cracker crumbs. However, I did not choose this parental life for the spiritual challenge… that is a side benefit. I had other reasons for getting into the role.

But now that I am in the role, my motives have changed. Sure, there is the sense of duty of giving up one’s personal desires for that of the familial collective. But my primary motivation is love. It hit me when my first baby emerged crying from the womb, and I sang a little song to calm her down. At that moment, she stopped crying and looked at me, and at that point, my old life died and my new life of being a loving father began.

And I wouldn’t give it up for anything else in the world.