The Lines of Life

The City of Dallas has been repairing the main street that runs in front of our office for the past several weeks. It's long overdue. Haskell, the one way street in question, is splattered with pot holes and uneven strips of pavement and rough cement from previous shoddy repair jobs.

Soon, it'll be a smooth street and my car will love me for it.

Right now, there is a half-mile long stretch of road that was resurfaced over the weekend. All of last week, two of the three lanes were closed while the bulldozers tore up the street for its improvement. All three lanes are now open, but they technically aren't lanes. White paint delineating specific paths and borders have not been created yet. It's more tarmac than public road.

Even though I'm observant enough to figure out where the lines should be placed and then respect those assumed boundaries, it made me wonder this morning what the lines of life are. For the most part, we don't have pre-determined and tangible paths of life, like we do for public transportation. For the most part, the path life leads us down is largely uncharted and unknown territory. Which is probably a good, albeit sometimes confusing, thing. But we do assume certain boundaries, or limitations, while we travel these metaphorical driving lanes of life.

Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau called these assumed and defined limitations a social contract. We accept certain personal restrictions for the good of the whole. In a political sense, it means we sometimes forego certain actions (stealing, killing each other, etc.) in return for government's protection; but I guess I'm talking about the social contract we have with each other and even the unspoken contract we have with ourselves.

Part of this social contract is allowing yourself and every other individual to realize his or her full worth; to tap, through self discovery and soul searching, talents that have previously been hidden and make those talents part of the public arena; to respect other's physical and intellectual property; to self-sacrifice when another life traveler needs assistance.

Perhaps then, this social contract occastionally needs to be redefined and updated when it starts to stale. Or at times, even temporarily suspended. In 1928, Justice Brandeis wisely recognized an interruption within the social contract and coined the phrase "the right to be left alone".

The social contract we have with ourselves is much harder to negotiate and to enforce. But, it means discovering our own innate personality, our own attitude and outlook of life, and whether we choose self improvement or complacency.

Like roads, sometimes we are in need of our own repaving. The process may be seemingly destructive, cause frustrating detours, and temporarily slow us down. But the smooth surface should be our goal.

So, how can you tell who has accepted this social contract? As you're driving down the road, lift your hand off the steering wheel and give a quick wave to another driver.

If that person waves back, the contract has been accepted.