Beyond living only for myself
For someone who likes to overstate the obvious, I can be shockingly oblivious to foreseeable consequences of my own decisions and how they affect me personally. Nowhere has this been more evident than in the compromised, weakened state of my body, mind and soul over the course of the last couple decades. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve held my own—carried my own weight—but (to play on a famous line from one of my favorite movies), “The saddest thing in life is wasted talent (or unrealized potential), and the choices you make will shape your life forever” (A Bronx Tale). A combination of self-neglect and a series of chronically bad choices brought me to the front steps of a “half-ton life,” if not to the edge of brokenness. As if by some awakening, it finally clicked that my clothes weren’t shrinking, but rather my body was expanding… outward. At a mere 5’9” (give or take), I weighed over 300 lbs. The hardest part to reconcile is how in the midst of a generally well-lived life for others I could have missed the slow and steady destruction of myself—the big fat elephant in the room, if you will? It’s baffling and there, but for the grace of God would I have stayed. No doubt it’s taken some level of divine intervention for me to regain a sense of balance and get back on track to a healthier, more productive life—a miraculous privilege for which I intend to reciprocate in-kind.
There is some irony to being an over-thinker who doesn’t think enough about himself, but in my experience it’s in giving rather than receiving that I feel the most fulfilled. I suppose when put that way, it’s not really about being selfless as much as it is about wanting to be of some value beyond living only for myself. In my 52 years of life, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only life worth living is one lived in the service of others—whatever that service may look like and for whomever that service may benefit whether it be one person (other than yourself) or a million.
I’ve had the good fortune of being a father to four children and father figure to countless others whom I cared for as my own. So, for the better part of the last 27 years, I’ve lived my life in the service of my children (as a single parent for most of that time). I’d like to believe that I’ve done and am doing my best for them, but the truth is that my best was all too often drenched with a pungent cologne of alcohol and, more often than I’d like to admit, clouded with pride, sometimes wrath and always gluttony—forgive me Father for I have sinned.
It’s in confronting some of these realities and realizing just how privileged I have been—to be alive for one, but also to have lived on Saipan all these years—that I decided to clean myself up and throw my hat into the proverbial ring for a chance to give back in a big way. Thus, my decision is rooted in the notion of wanting to serve our community; however, it would be disingenuous to suggest (as most politicians do) that my motives are purely altruistic. The truth is that my motives are also one part selfish in the sense that I need a purpose bigger than myself in order to feel fulfilled—this job, for me, is as much about giving more meaning to my own life as it is about safeguarding (with America as our shield) the lives of all who call the CNMI home.
Running for political office comes with an undertow of expectations to act and speak in ways that do not outwardly expose any flaws and in ways that conform to certain political norms, not the least of which is to put on a public front of knowing and having all the answers. The thing is that I don’t have all the answers. To quote another one of my favorite movies, “I’m the type of person if you ask me a question and I don’t have the answer, I’m gonna tell you that I don’t know, but I bet you… I know how to find the answer and I will find the answer” (The Pursuit of Happiness). So, much to the chagrin of those closest to me, our campaign trail is littered with me saying just that, “I don’t know.” For emphasis, my campaign has never been premised on a suggestion that I know all the answers to all of our problems, but rather on the assurance that I have the knowledge and experience required to lead a productive office in service to our community.
And here’s another thing, I may not know everything, but I actually do know a whole lot about a lot of things particularly about working collaboratively with diverse groups of people with dignity and respect for all as my guiding principle. I would not be asking for this job, if I didn’t believe that I could represent our CNMI in a dignified manner befitting the strength and honor of being a true islander. The work of our delegate’s office demands a measured approach with everyone on all issues at all times and I want selflessness, humility with strength and even-keeled leadership that naturally fosters unity. With all due respect to each of the other candidates, I am not convinced that they value those attributes; in fact, their professional and campaign trails are littered with evidence to the contrary. To be clear, I would love nothing more than for all of them to prove me wrong—make me believe that those attributes reside in all of us. In the meantime, for the sake of the CNMI, I hope that each of us can self-reflect on how we can be better and make adjustments going forward.
Come November, one of us will be the CNMI’s new delegate in U.S. Congress and I want to see the most all-inclusive, representative version of whichever one of us that may be.
A few more parting thoughts: I think it’s dishonest to try and make people believe that “as your delegate” any of us can immediately solve the most pressing issues facing our community. It’s not as though by getting elected we suddenly get to wield a magic wand that resolves the “suffering” or the “corruption” or the “geo-political tensions” and much less the “apathy and sense of entitlement” that plagues our community. If any of those were within the control of our delegate, all would have been resolved since 2008.
The simple fact is that this is a job which will require a day-to-day/hour-to-hour/minute-to-minute series of tries and more tries to address our needs with everything available to us under the American flag. A quick side note: I for one can’t stand to hear about what a huge sacrifice this will be on any of us candidates. No doubt the job will be all-consuming and each of us should be prepared to give entirely of him or herself and…well… that’s what I’m prepared to do. I view it as an incredible challenge and an opportunity to reciprocate the great privilege of being able to call the CNMI home. It most certainly is not a sacrifice, but rather a responsibility—“With great privilege, comes great responsibility.”
Jim Rayphand is a former director of the Office of Vocational Rehabilitation and Northern Marianas Protection and Advocacy Systems Inc.
