I seem to have “inherited” a rather large impressively built round table. I love it. It has crazy metal gears and is very steampunk looking. It makes me think of the knights of the round table and / or a torture device. Fun!
Camelot notwithstanding, it makes me excited to think about the fact that I have always wanted a big round table. Dear friends of mine, the Felicianos, had a big round table in their home (I think they still do) and I have so many very fond memories of dinner parties there and playing games and many hours of laughing til you cry and all the great things about family and friends who are all one and the same.
The round table also got me thinking about how the alleged King Arthur wanted to run his kingdom. The romanticized version of the story of course is that he saw his rule as more of an oligarchy than a monarchy and he entrusted the future of his rule to a small select group of men whom he trusted with his life.
There is great wisdom in this. The more people you let into your life, seeking after their counsel and accountability, the more investment they have in seeing you do well, and in proportion, the more there is at stake for you to make decisions. Like what I wrote about the world watching you in a glass house, when you have asked for the counsel of many people, it’s like you’re taking a blank check from each of them and you are cashing them in and you are saying I am going to do my best to make a decent return on your investment in me. Because we’re not living in a vacuum and everything we do ripples out. You know that whole echoes through eternity gladiator grr grr grr thing.
I want so much to balance out the “what others think of me” with what God knows of me with what I think of myself and how that all fits together. I want a counsel of peers and elders, those I respect and adore, and even those who mean me harm and loathe me because they often see the blind spots first. I want others to feel free to tell me what I’m doing wrong and I pray to be gracious and humble to hear it and to let it sink in. I want so much to live in that “village” because it does take a village, with or without Hillary Clinton, to get through this life and to change the world, one person at a time. And the cord of many is that much stronger when one cord breaks.
So I sit at the round table and I smile. For the rich heritage I have been adopted into. For the men and women who have gone before me and spoke into my life. For those I cling to now for help and guidance and who seek after me and my well being. And for those yet to come. This great cloud of witnesses cheering me on to the finish. And to that I say, Huzzah! Which probably does not date back to Arthurian times, but who cares!
And then I think of this and I laugh and suddenly feel like dancing on the table. But I won’t. Yet.