I’ve
always been a Beatles fan and after they split up, I continued
to follow their separate careers. I confess John Lennon held most of my
attention as an individual musician and song writer and the love I saw between Yoko and John fascinated me. I can recall
vividly the scene of their 1969 bed-in and the buzz it created. They seemed so
carefree to me despite the serious reason behind their gentle form of protest.
At the time, I was twenty-nine and nearly drowning in motherhood—four daughters
under the age of five. Wistfully, I wondered what it would be like to stay in
bed for peace. Later, I remember my great sadness when this gentle man was killed in 1980. By then, my children were in their teens and doing well, the youngest twelve. At the time, as most of the world did, I grieved for Yoko. Her sadness, I always thought, reflected in her tight lipped smile in the years after his death.
Recently,
I saw her on television and was struck by a different look. I realized it was
in her smile, now a wide open grin. She spoke of her long-envisioned project to
connect the world through smiling. “It was hard for me, too,” she said, “After
my husband John Lennon passed away, and I tried to smile for my health.”She suggested we could begin as she did, at first in front of a mirror smiling at ourselves. Initially, Yoko continued, her wide smile felt phony, but the more she practiced, the more natural and real it became. Now she wants the whole world to smile and believes that can lead to peace.
Personally, I’ve always smiled a lot, but after listening to Yoko, I reexamined how I smile. I thought back to an incident in nursing school when I greeted a classmate with my usual wide open smile and a cheerful “good morning” at our 6:30 AM morning inspection. Her response was scathing. “You don’t know how much you depress me every morning with that big smile. It’s way too early for that.” As an impressional nineteen year old, I was stung by her comment stung, and couldn’t help worrying whether others saw me as she did. As a result, I think, I developed a restrained polite business kind of smile, reserving my full on grin for those I knew well.
Yoko inspired me. Yesterday, I gave the sad looking young man pumping my gas a wide sincere smile. “Thanks and have a real good day,” I said. His down turned lips turned up, his shoulders straightened and he gifted me with a full grin. “No problem and you have a great day, too.” As I pulled out of the gas station, I felt my spirit lift.
Yoko's right. Like their bed-in so many years ago, her smile campaign is an intriguing idea and one that captures our imagination, but this time, unlike the bed in, we can all take part. I know I’ll be better giving my all to every person I meet.
I think you will, too. So give someone a smile today and if you’re alone give it to yourself. I like to think if John Lennon was still here he might add, “Give peace a chance, one smile at a time.”
