A missing organ

“No one’s complete you know.” That’s what the self-styled, self-help guru declared. “Our minds are conditioned to think we’re whole. “How many organs CAN you take away from a man, and still call him a man?” he bluntly asked, then added,“You know, we’re all missing an organ.” 

What is an organ? The definition is straight forward—a grouping of specialized tissues adapted for the performance of a specific function. We know which one’s we need to live. Brain, Heart, Kidneys, Liver, Lungs, Pancreas….have you ever had your breath taken away from you…didn’t know where your next breath was coming from….something like that makes you very glad your lungs are fully functioning without asking for permission…

So, I’m thinking…I’m functioning pretty well…not gasping for air…what organ am I missing? Oh, the guru must be thinking metaphorically. That’s it!  Like in the Wizard of Oz, the Scarecrow needs a brain, the Tin Man needs a heart…well, they weren’t human. Is that what the guru was saying? I wasn’t human. I will grant you that I am not the soul of perfection, but nor am I the meme of inhumanity either. 

Do you work with someone, live with someone who on certain days causes you to ask yourself, “What is wrong with him?  He’s not himself.” You are noticing the phenomenon of the “Missing Organ.” When he was getting dressed in the morning he must have forgotten to attach part of his being, maybe just part of his personality…but it’s obvious, like how blatantly wrong it is when you’re ready to leave the house but your keys don’t know where you are? 

The idea took hold in me, not to the point where I was looking to see if I left a vital body part in the shower, more like a nagging paper cut. The idea unsettled me.

Then, one night we went to a packed Grateful Dead concert. If you know the Dead you know that their songs last at least ten minutes in a live performance. The one I vividly remember started out innocently enough—"The Streets of Laredo.” The lead guitar, Jerry Garcia, was seated on a bar stool surrounded by the other musicians playing background harmony and rhythm and moving in the background as Garcia went on a riff, a long solo. Gradually it seemed as if only he was on stage, he remained perfectly still, only his fingers were moving, feet not taping, never lifting his head from his gaze at the strings. What we heard was a flight of angelic melodies that we had never heard before, so harmonic and freeing that you wanted him to play the melodies over and over.  But he didn’t. He changed them in ways that defied them ever being written down or you ever being able to hum them…their absolute novelty. The arrangement, then variations of his notes were original and pure, precluding all other sound. Well beyond the Streets of Laredo. Garcia had found the missing organ…it was his guitar. He could take you places with music that were without words yet with understanding. He played the guitar as if it were part of him. As effortlessly as you and I use our organs of speech. 

Artists find their missing organ in their pigments and gestures. A comedian like Robin Williams discovered himself in the fullness of his imagery, vocal variety, wit, kinetic mannerisms. Where are you most yourself? When are you most yourself? Now, that could be a speech. 

Let’s get back to earth. I remember as a child, growing up in the ‘50’s, leaving the house for hours on end, with no ID, no watch, no directions, and only enough change to call home from a phone booth. It’s so obvious, what we now can’t live without. This organ! {Hold up the iphone.} No, not a pace-maker, not a hearing-aid, not a pair of glasses, not an inhaler. But now as essential as a heart beat.

Look at it. EMAIL, FACETIME, GOOGLE, PHONE, TEXT, WAZE.  Triage them. If you had to, which ones could you sacrifice?  Which ones can you no longer live without? I see people hold their smart phone this as if it were inseparable from them.  One person I know carries his Tablet with him as he moves from the dining room to the kitchen, puts it down, strums it, picks it up, moves to the living room, and fiddles with it as he talks to you. No judgment! But does it not meet the definition of an organ? Defy me! Turn it off for the rest of the afternoon. See if you are still alive at the end of the day. 

What if there were an organ that slipped off you as you grew up, but you were simply so busy that you didn’t notice? It influenced the way you looked at the world, but you were slowly weaned off it. 

I know what you’re asking, right after, “Is he almost done YET!?”  What about the Cowardly Lion? Yes, exactly, because he wasn’t missing a physical organ like a heart or brain.  He had everything a Lion was born with, but the sum of those parts did not add up to courage.

I don’t know what your passion should be….and I am certainly not going to suggest that you are not exercising your Organ of Speech enough! I do know this, the Lion found his courage with a Scarecrow, a Tin Man, a Terrier, and a child from Kansas. I think we, this group of Toastmasters, are of equal company. And someday, “maybe not today or tomorrow, but some day” you are going to have to stand before the Wizard of Oz and expose him for who he is. In order to do that, you will have to reveal who you are. If you want to be ready to call out the Wizard, you have to practice being ready.  Plan out a speech and deliver it. It may make your heart skip a beat, your vocal cords waver, your hands get sweaty and your feet cold. Yes, the same symptoms as falling in love. And be careful, you may find out, you can’t live without it.