A few weeks ago, our precocious five-year-old son lost a tooth.  It was his first, but this tooth was lost unlike any other in family history: in Florida, on some side road just south of Fort Myers, in the rented mini-van, just after Mass.

Darn thing just literally popped right out of his mouth. We could not locate its whereabouts, and in the midst of a family vacation-slash-destination wedding, it became a moment that passed.

But not before it was destined to become a fun mental memento. Really, at the end of a day, a week, a year – a lifetime – what is left but memories?

As I told our children driving home, in 30 years they would randomly remember something that sparks a bunch of other memories about this trip.  Perhaps it would be the bucket we took as a bathroom “back-up”. (Don’t judge.) Maybe it will be the lost tooth, or the family sing-alongs, the stop for breakfast at Cracker Barrel, the boat ride on an ocean inlet, the sunshine, and the smell of the air, a palm tree, their aunt’s wedding or the color of the couch at our condo.

But something will inevitably jog their memory, many years from now, about Spring Break 2014.

It will become just a drop into a bucket full of moments like this in their lives, which I truly hope overflows with smiles and happiness. Really, I wish that for us all.

Over the years – thousands of them – we humans have managed to create quite the environment for ourselves. We have created more types and kinds of work than our ancestors could possibly imagine.

We play with gadgets that were frankly incomprehensible just 10 years ago. We create these elaborate situations ourselves to impress upon others that we are busy, because busy in a universal modern language equates productivity, success, action.

We spend time polarizing ourselves from the world, choosing sides and wrestling with these really intense issues and topics of concern.

The older I get, the more I come to realize that we are more frequently than not alienating ourselves from the entire original theory: life is to be lived.

I think if I had my druthers – and a small fortune – I’d spend the majority of my days living. Oh sure, we all do that now – but I mean Matthew McConaughey-style: L-I-V-I-N.

And while I certainly sound as though I’ve turned into a free-spirited hippie, or someone who’s seen “Dazed and Confused” one too many times, you’re getting caught again in the semantics.

Make no mistake; there is often great value in what we all “do” on the daily. From doctors to teachers to janitors, most all of our professions, chosen or not, serve society in some way. There is certainly nothing wrong with working hard, burning the midnight oil and feeling as though what you are doing is somehow, in some way, making a difference and contributing something positive to society.

But it is a thin line between that emotion and seeing that notification number on our inboxes increase.  If we are honest with ourselves, we have reached a point in the world where we have to take mental stock of where we sit on that line. Are we pushing it in the sand? Have we crossed over it into a domain of obsession and perfectionism over a bunch of tasks that adds up to very little in the end? How can we be sure the side we are currently on is good or bad?

I might suggest it is a matter of faith. Not necessarily a matter of faith in a biblical sense, though that could be appropriate, but just faith in general.

The kind of faith that allows you to rest easy, for example, that the light will stay green. And though your eyes scan the road to verify no cars are running the red light, you put trust and faith in yourself, the rules of the road and others, that allows you to not ride your brakes and go through the intersection.

We speak frequently of luck, of someone watching out for us or karma. No matter what you believe in, this faith tends to weaken if something bad happens. I would contend, however, this is not a matter of faith failing us or letting us down.

Something happened, yes, but not all situations have logic and reason. The same way sickness and poverty are not a punishment or a lesson or a curse. Whether or not you accept this relies entirely on your attitude and commitment to that general faith.

Will it be OK in the end? We really don’t know. But it will happen all the same.

Really, the only question in these moments is do we have the fortitude to focus our resolve?

The rest of the world calls this crazy – to believe in what you are doing when no one else does.

But this is my favorite kind of embrace of life. Who is it we are all listening to? Each other, so it would seem.

So, why are we taking financial advice from our friend that we used to sit next to in high school economics and doesn’t even know what TINSTAAFL means? Why are we taking love advice from the neighbor’s dog-walker’s-Aunt, who has been married three times?

Our situations are all generally just different enough that precedent does not really matter.

For everyone who thinks young marriage cannot last, I can show you dear friends of ours who are a shining example of how it can. For anyone that belittles your favorite movie or band, I’m sure we would mutually agree one of theirs was equally questionable.

This whole world we’ve created for ourselves inside the times we live is a byproduct of  the likes and dislikes of someone else, what’s popular and what just did not catch on. This is why wearing sandals in the winter gathers stares (and perhaps a cold): because it is just not normal.

You know what? I say wear your sandals in the winter should you want to – but not out of irony. Being different to be different is missing the point as well. Still, there is much to be praised for being different, for finding the undefined spaces between the lines and making your mark there.

Faith in oneself, in what you believe, is nothing more than a coping mechanism for getting through this world with some sense of a compass in hand. If you believe in something, then you have something to guide you. In this way, you will know deep inside your heart whether or not you are living each day with a purpose – a purpose defined solely for you and no one else.

Kind of unique, right?

This uniqueness, this independence, this idea continues to mold me, shape me and drive me.  We do not know when and where this will all end, only that it will. But in the time between now and then, what will we do to live? Not simply in just breathing and monitoring our day, completing our tasks, but to feel life, to live it?

There is great purpose in simply finding adventure in the day, in smiling, in laughing, in crying.

And yes, in losing a tooth.