Take Up Your Cross

"If we all threw our problems in a pile
and saw everyone else's,
we'd grab ours back."
Earlier today, my friend Jodie posted the above "thought for the day" on facebook, along with the comment: "I love this. A friend posted this and thought it was great and probably true. Feel free to repost and share with others."

Thanks Jodie!

Jodie's post reminded me of the following parable that I encountered a few years back in some newsletter or other. Unfortunately, I didn't save the original copy and don't recall any particular author's name attached to it, though I'm guessing it was probably a contemporary writer who specializes in inspirational narratives along these lines.

I have to say that the ironic tone makes me think of the surprising Parables of Franz Kafka, and the instructive anecdotes embedded in The Trial, or the frustrated efforts of "K" to understand the mysteries of The Castle.

If you have come across this story already, please forgive repetition. If you can match me up with an author or title, even better! Thanks!

Here is a paraphrase of what I can remember:

There was a man who was getting so tired of carrying his cross that he decided to go to God and ask for something lighter. To his amazement, God readily agreed and told him to carry his cross over to the warehouse and exchange it for whatever he saw that he would rather have.

The man entered a huge storeroom full of crosses of every description. He leaned his own against the wall and wandered around looking at all the large, heavy, roughly constructed crosses that appeared not a bit better than the one he had just put down. After circling the room a few times, he at last spied a beautiful jewel encrusted cross, so exquisite that he could hardly believe his eyes.

Nestled among the many huge, unseemly crosses, this one was so small and finely made that the man felt sure he could wear it on a golden chain around his neck. He made his choice and carried the precious artifact back to God, asking if he could have it.

"Are you sure you want to take that one?" asked God, registering some surprise.

"Absolutely!" the man replied, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well," answered God, "that's the one you just put down."

My yoke is easy and my burden is light . . .
take up your cross and follow me!
Weight Training This is a giant block of whatever is most difficult for you to carry & trust me on this, you'll carry it more times than you can count until you decide that's exactly what you want to do most & then it won't weigh a thing anymore. See www.storypeople.com

German Vocab

Carriage House in University City, West Philadelphia
For Friday the 13th, how about a couple of German vocabulary words whose connection you will appreciate:

The first, weltschmerz, particularly in relation to "The Door," E. B. White's essay of pain and distortion:
weltschmerz (VELT-shmerts) noun meaning world-pain or world weariness; pessimism, apathy, or sadness felt at the difference between physical reality and the ideal state.

The second, torschlusspanik, in relation to Kafka's "Man Before the Law" whose doomed life illustrates the very concept:
torschlusspanik (TOR - schluss - panic) noun describing the door-shutting panic experienced at the thought that a door between oneself and life's opportunities is closing forever.

For more on Door-Shutting Panic & World-Pain
see my post "The Little Door"
on my fortnightly literary blog
of connection and coincidence
www.kitticarriker.blogspot.com

NEW FORTNIGHTLY POST TOMORROW!
Saturday, August 14th

The Little Door

Here is the Little Door
Lift up the latch; O lift!
We need not wander more,
but enter with our gift . . . "
~ Chesterton

"Strive to enter through
the narrow door:
for many, I tell you,
will try to enter
and will not be able."
~ Luke 13: 22

[L: The Cutest Playhouse
in all of Philadelphia!]


There are numerous symbolic doors in literature: opening, closing, revolving, inviting, forbidding, remaining locked forever. As I read on a poster once, "There are as many doors as there are desires." Here are some of the most meaningful doors that I have come across in my reading:

1. In Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird,
a door representing one's own humanity

2. In Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnet "Bluebeard,"
a door representing privacy

3. In Franz Kafka's parable, "Before the Law,"
a door representing the Law

4. In E. B. White's essay, "The Door,"
a door representing (in)sanity

And most recently . . .

5. In my friend Jan Donley's new novel The Side Door,
a door representing "secrets . . . everywhere . . . under carpets, in closets, in pockets, underground . . ."

















FOR MORE ON DOORS
SEE TODAY'S NEW POST: "THE LITTLE DOOR"

ON THE FORTNIGHTLY KITTI CARRIKER
MY LITERARY BLOG OF CONNECTION & COINCIDENCE