“There are some
things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a
twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.”
These words were written at the conclusion of
the scene in which Harry and Ron save Hermoine from the mountain troll in the
women’s lavatory. I enjoy it for a few
reasons. Chief among them is that in it I see the divine principle that serving another person in a meaningful way
bonds you to that person in ways that few other experiences can.
I’ve found this to be the case in
my life. I can go about interacting with
a person over the span of years either at work, socially, or even in my own
family. And, in those interactions,
there can be a degree of bond developed.
But more often than not, when the time comes that I evaluate the status
of this relationship, or that, I tend to put these folks into the category of
“associates”, rather than friends. That
is not to suggest that we are not friendly – we certainly are.
But friendly (or, civil)
interactions do not account for what Aristotle would call “complete friendship”. The type of friends who do things for each
other for the other’s own sake – and for no other reason. Harry and Ron
didn’t run into danger to save Hermoine from the troll because of
self-interest. They did it because
something in their character compelled them to.
And, in responding affirmatively to that good impulse, they bonded with
Hermoine in a way that no other interaction could.
I believe that the spiritual laws
of the universe dictate that when we serve another person, we are bonded to
them. And the more selfless that service
is, the more pure and strong that bond is.
I have experienced this in my own
life, and can attest that it is true.
When I have served someone selflessly, I have felt a special bond with
that person. My wife chief among them,
but also my children, and a handful of friends who’s times of need happened to
correspond when I was standing around and had nothing better to do than
recognize they needed something I could give.
What I don’t know (and have always
wondered about) is whether the person who is served feels that same sort of
bond. One for the ages.
“We’ve all got light
and dark inside us. What matters is the
part we choose to act on. That’s who we
really are.” – Sirius Black
Harry
was struggling with the literal voices in his head, and fighting impulses he
had to quickly turn to anger and impatience.
He was wondering if he were somehow broken, or otherwise doomed to
become like Voldemort. Then Sirius laid
this truth upon him.
I feel akin to Harry in this respect.
Not that I feel tied to the Dark Lord (I’m more a Lord Vader kind of guy),
but that I have impulses and what sometimes feels like an irresistible and
unrelenting pull toward things that my better self know are unwise. I think we all probably have this inner
battle going on.
But that there is an inner battle tells me that I/we do know better. Something inside us, something bred into our
spiritual DNA informs the difference between right and wrong. And that is reassuring to me. The difficulty for me is not discerning
between right and wrong, in most cases.
It’s making the decision to always side with the right, despite the
rationalization that my creative mind (and the world around me) comes up with
to go the other direction.
As
Sirius said, “what matters is the part we choose to act on.”
“This mirror gives us
neither knowledge nor truth. Men have
wasted away in front of it, even gone mad.” – Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
The
first thing I thought of when Albus said this of the Mirror of Erised to Harry
was television. Then I thought of
youtube. Then I thought of more unsavory
things “men” tend to waste away in front of on the internet. And while I do consider that unsavory viewing
habit of many men to be to the spirit what meth is to the body, it’s so
unsavory, I don’t want to dwell on the topic any longer than I already have.
But how much time do we (men and women) spend in activities or
entertainment that yield us neither knowledge nor truth? How much time do we spend wasting away. Another quote from another movie (but,
delivered from the same actor who played Sirius): “How much of human life is
lost in waiting?”, asked Professor Oxley at Indiana’s wedding ceremony in
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
I think we are beings who were created and designed to act. To make proactive decisions, to work, and to exercise
our agency. Sometimes, interestingly, I
think there are times when we should affirmatively decide to wait. But it’s important that we make the decisions
that affect our lives, rather than allowing the outside world happen to us like
we’re some sort of rock waiting for another outside force to bump into us and
knock us downhill toward a river that will sweep us away.
Now,
by this point, the irony of pulling this nugget of wisdom from something that I
effectively watched on a television is not lost on me, nor on you, my fair
reader. So, it is important for me to
say that there is nothing wrong in taking in a little entertainment, from time
to time. We can unwind, decompress, or
even possibly learn from good forms of entertainment. But I think entertainment can easily
overwhelm us, and waste away what is otherwise a perfectly serviceable soul.
“Well, if I were
You-Know-Who, I’d want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Because if it’s just you alone, you’re not as
much of a threat.” – Luna Lovegood
This
one fell on my mind like ton of bricks.
I like to think of myself as a fairly self-sufficient guy. In many parts of my life, I like to think
that you can metaphorically throw me out of a helicopter over a wilderness, and
I’ll do just fine. And in most cases,
that is the case. I have proven it to
myself and to others.
But somewhere along the line, I learned a few hard lessons. First, when I am so self-sufficient that I
don’t need help from anyone else, I short circuit the opportunity for others to
serve me and bond with me in the special way described above. I served people, but wouldn’t allow them to
serve me. Relationships that are
worthwhile are relationships that are truly two-way.
And it’s not a matter of doing an equal number of things for each
other. My wife and I, for example, don’t
keep score on who takes out the trash or washes the dishes more often. We each do what we can when we can. When one needs more help, the other steps up
and does it knowing that the other will do the same when the time comes. We grow stronger together when we do this,
because we are serving each other.
Secondly, the trouble with trying to do it (whatever “it” is) alone is
that sooner or later your spirit suffers (as mine has when I tried this), and
in the face of that suffering your brain translates the spiritual suffering into
anger and resentment. Harry was angry with
some of his classmates, partially because he didn’t think any of them
understood what he was going through. He
had the good fortune of stumbling into Luna who understood him better than he
expected, and had the kindness to offer him the perspective that he needed to
sort of reset his mind.
We
all, in the trials of life, feel alone.
I don’t know why we do that. I
think it’s because it’s hard to know who around us are the Luna’s in our lives,
and do actually know what we’re going through.
I think, however, if we do pay attention, and are open to being helped,
we will find that we are not alone, and, with our "complete friends," can overcome
that which afflicts us.
