The Respirateur

Sometimes when I meet someone who asks me “what do you do,” I am somewhat at a loss for words. Does she mean what do I do for a living? Does he mean what do I do for fun? Or is it something else? Of course, the context of the question usually provides a clue to the meaning. But maybe I want to interpret the meaning differently than it was intended…

I recently read a book by Robert Fulghum (who has been, among other things, a Unitarian minister) called “It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It.” I highly recommend this little collection of essays for its humor, insight, and ability to make the reader squirm in discomfort. One story deals with the question posed above.

Fulghum has many answers to this question, because he’s done and been many things. I like his practice of saying different things at different times, depending on who or what he feels like at the moment. He relates one story of a conversation on a plane trip where he tells his seatmate “I’m a nun,” and the comical results of their continuing the conversation as if he were, overheard by the couple in the row behind them.

My favorite answer to this question, however, is from Marcel Duchamp, who would answer “I am a respirateur.” How perfect – I am a breather. After all, breathing is one thing every one of us does, all the time, from the moment of birth to the finality of death. It sounds so mysterious, too – just think of the delicious misunderstandings that are possible with this word. “Hi, what do you do?” “Well, right now I’m a respirateur.” “Oh, really! Where is your restaurant?” or “How many people have you rescued?” I wonder if anyone, in casual conversation, would really notice what I really said and know or ask what the word meant. Of course the possibilities are endless – “I’m a somnambulist.” We spend more time asleep than any single other pursuit, right? “I’m a dreamer – I just wish I could remember more of them.”

What about other roles in our lives? I am a father, son, brother-in-law, son-in-law, cousin, second cousin, nephew, and husband. Things we do for fun and fulfillment? I am a musician, reader, writer, meditator, cyclist, hiker, camper, weightlifter, and movie watcher. Things we are obligated to do? I am a driver, doer-of-laundry, toilet cleaner, dishwasher, plumber, and handyman – but I don’t do windows.

So why do most of us answer the question “what do you do” with what we get paid to do? Why not answer with what we love to do? For a lucky few of us, the answer is the same. My mother, an English teacher for over 40 years, told me once that she was embarrassed to get paid to teach because she loved it so much. Likewise, there were times in my career as a Harrier jet pilot when I couldn’t believe I got paid to do it – and others where I didn’t think I got paid nearly enough. I won’t be surprised if I have the same feeling about professional ministry.

Of all the possible answers to that question, “what do you do,” there is one that is absolutely universal and accurate, no matter one’s personal job or interests – “I am a human.”