A Story

As soon as I was coordinated enough to stand I held onto the chair while balancing on one tippy-toed foot. My other plump leg gained a foothold on the seat of the chair as I used every ounce of strength in my small body to hoist myself up. The approving faces of those who occupied the chairs closest to mine were impressed with my feat and cheered me on as I claimed victory over the chair, or rather my chair.

Ever so humbly you removed yourself from my chair as I began to mount it, for it is not large enough for both of us. Without so much as a goodbye or a pleading remark you vacated the seat on which I triumphantly sat with short outstretched legs barely reaching the edge of the seat.

As time passed my body continued to grow until I comfortably sat with my feet resting solidly on the ground beneath. For over a decade I was conscious of no more than occasional glimpses of you because I was busy enjoying the comfort and power my chair provided.

As more time passed I began to feel increasingly disturbed in my comfortable chair although those in my vicinity continued to applaud me for how nicely I sat in it and with what intelligence and moral goodness I ruled it. However, my nearly flawless posture could not drain out the desperate cries of those who were being crushed beneath the chairs of others. Day and night I heard their pleas for help, but I turned a deaf ear to their dire situation and numbly reclined in my chair. At least I occupy my chair in a respectable and generous manner, I assured myself. Time passed and their increasingly loud voices haunted me although I masked my discomfort as those sitting near me continued to throw praise my way. The more attention I paid to how well I sat in my chair the more I wanted to scream. They needed help; I needed help. For the first time in my life I wanted out. I knew that liberation from my chair would be my first step into saving both my soul and theirs. You were the only one to turn to, the only one who seemed to make sense. From my elevated seat I began to frantically search for you who I had never truly known, who I barely even knew existed. I strained my neck, called out in desperation, hoisted myself onto my knees, and even supported my body with a locked left arm as I carefully leaned my torso out of the chair while still securely remaining on my throne.

You came when I called, for you are polite enough not to intrude without being invited. As you approached my chair, relief flooded my face as I realized that you cared, or — moreover — that you existed. My heart leapt for joy as you gently approached me until you came within an arm's length of where I proudly sat. My heart sank as you outstretched your arm and called me down from my throne.

I knew what you would require – indeed what my heart longed for – yet my fingers gripped the arm rests as I hastily searched my brain for a valid protest, "Just stand beside me instead. I clearly want you to be with me, but this is the chair that I have earned, and it is only right that I sit in it. I can sit in the chair and you can stand right next to it. We will still be close enough to touch." Satisfied with my clever solution, my grasp loosened and I pompously motioned my arm to show you where to stand.

You shook your head in quiet refusal and once again gently coaxed me down from my lofty seat. Astonished that you were not impressed with my compromise, I tensed my muscles but tried to appear composed. You tilted your head and fixed your eyes on mine, although it felt as though you were peering into the depths of my soul. You smiled a poignant smile, turned after lingering a moment, and promptly began walking away from me and my stubborn position.
"Wait! I…I need you!" The words escaped although my pride tried to suppress them.

Turning to face me, you once again gently coaxed me to relinquish my control of the seat. Embittered thoughts flooded my mind as I remembered that this is the chair I had earned and that people respected me for.

You waited.

 Realizing that this was the only way, I released my grasp from the armrests and dared to even contemplate rising from the chair.

A battle raged within me as logical arguments and others’ words attacked my thoughts, but I could not take my eyes off your innocent stare. Those sitting around me went from quiet skepticism to complete uproar once they realized the increasingly real possibility that I might relinquish control of my chair. My liberation would innately threaten the security and blind comfort each one of them enjoyed; their annoyed and bewildered stares cleverly masked their fear. For the first time in my applauded and decent life I faced the daunting reality of being misunderstood by all those who had previously doled out well-intentioned advice on how one properly occupies a chair.

Peter Maurin’s words echoed through my mind, providing both assurance and motivation: “If the world thinks we are crazy, it is because we refuse to be crazy in the same way that the world has been crazy.”

Without daring to glance at those around me, I tuned out their incessant noise and intently lifted myself only to quickly sit down again. It was much more difficult than I calculated it to be. I tried again, this time completely standing in front of the chair, although my right hand remained touching the armrest. Pain flooded my body and I impulsively sat back down. The perpetual struggle raged on as I tried to fight every instinct within me. I stood, even taking a few steps away from the chair, only to feel completely lost in this foreign no man's land. I panicked and anxiously regained my seat.

Again.

 Four steps this time. Again I return in fear, for my identity is in the chair.

Again.

Barely three steps this time. Frustration overtakes my body.

Again.

Each time I try to permanently escape from the grip of my throne, but without fail I find refuge in my seat when fear or trials strike.

Again.

Lord, please continue to be patient with me as I learn how to relinquish my inner throne and allow you to have full control of my life and desires. I know I must allow you to liberate me from my throne if I am going to serve you and love your people fully. Forgive me for the numerous times throughout any given day that I revert to worshipping Self rather than you as a means of comfort and power. I beg you to continue to coax me down from my throne.

Again.