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Adventures in Wortcunning: The Weight of Glory

Adventures in Wortcunning: The Weight of Glory

Last updated on: April 1, 2016 at 5:03 pm by Anne Duthers

Adventures in Wortcunning: The Weight of Glory 2016-04-01T17:03:34+00:00 Anne Duthers

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C.S. Lewis / Public Domain

The Weight of Glory
or who is my neighbor? by CS Lewis

The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbor’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken.

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, in a nightmare.

All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is the immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.

Sebastian96 / Pixabay.com

I lived in a city growing up. Living in the city brings an anonymity of sorts. So many faces, few know you and everyone behaves—well, let’s just say folks can behave nicer in a small town where word gets back to your mom before you get home for dinner.

The above excerpt was a clipping I found while sorting through my recently departed mother’s letters. My relations had a penchant for inserting interesting, spiritual or particularly soulful snip-its into the letters that arrived every month or two. Very often religious, they tried to be spiritual regardless, applying the lessons learned each Sunday.

CS Lewis was one of the authors my intellectual grandfather adored. And Charles Dickens too. His first gift to me during one of our rare visits was, of course, a book–a copy of *Great Expectations–*when I was seven. No pressure there. He wanted to share a slice of his experience with me (shudder). I prefer to think of this book as pure fiction.

Free will was not, in my family, a concept to be proud of. In fact, pride itself is one of the seven deadly sins of Biblical tradition. Exercising one’s free will to dress, believe, think or pray in a different fashion was frowned upon. So taking free will out for a marathon trot was risky. But spiritual warfare because one prefers to worship bare…foot under the stars? Definitely uncool. Turns out the only thing I can’t stand is intolerance.

As I got older, my choices increasingly leaned toward smaller communities and higher levels of accountability. I appreciated the sense of location, feeling part of a place and family. But it meant sacrificing a level of freedom hidden in the anonymity of city life. At the same time I gave up huge chunks of lovely, but awkward bits of myself, one piece at a time. Self-care is always the first to go.

After a while and from time to time I would listen to the stories of the people around me. This was convenient because I enjoyed their company. It was always the stories of the oldest of my friends that fascinated me most. The stories of people with real history. Then I listened some more and realized we all have history. Even the meekest old lady you know has a story you would be fascinated by if you only took the time to listen.

So it didn’t surprise me to find this clipping fall out from among the letters, I am just sad that I don’t know who sent it to whom. I wonder if they saw what I did in the piece. It seems a shame that being kind to each other should be such a weight to Lewis, but I agree with his perspective that there are no muggles, mundanes or mortals in our daily lives.

Huhehoda / Shutterstock.com

Thou art God, and Thou art Goddess. Namaste, and Be Excellent to each other. Be good to yourself, as well. Perhaps your body is a temple of the Divine after all.

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