The first time it happened I was buying a Christmas tree.
Standing in a rural Pennsylvania field, the farmer pulled off his work glove
and extended his calloused hand, “I’ve never shaken hands with a professor
before.”
The last time it happened was Friday. Sitting in a meeting miles away from the
office, I sent an encouraging email to a faculty member struggling to maintain
control of a committee. He replied,
“Thanks, Chris. I needed that.”
How did my word, my mere presence, get this power? I can impress and encourage, scold and
rebuke. But, I am nobody. I am not
different or better or smarter. I can’t
sing very well, draw, or paint. I am terrible at remembering names. I always,
always burn garlic toast in the broiler.
It did get me thinking about the weight we assign to things in our lives. The weight attached to words and actions. I'm like everyone else, I imagine. I enjoy hearing words of praise from others and words of criticism can cut sharply. I put my trust in the experience and wisdom of physicians, realtors, and hair stylists. Realizing that others are trusting my experience and wisdom gives me pause. What I do and say matters to others, affects them either positively or negatively. My words have weight, which makes me think I need to weigh each one carefully.
