The Weighing Station

He emerged from the foggy cloud a little disorientated. In the distance he could see two people looking expectantly at him. He smiled and walked towards them, gradually beginning to recover his confidence and sense of status.

As he neared he gave them his half smile. A smile that showed power, one that he had used for over twenty years to ensure that people, even those who didn’t know him, knew how important he was.

“Ian?” one of the strangers asked in questioning tone.

“Yes,” said Ian abruptly, thinking, never give more away than is needed.

“Good,” said the second, “Then we must get on.” He pointed to what looked like a square metal grid on the floor. “Would you mind?”

Ian paused for a moment wondering how to keep authority in this confusing situation. “Mind?” he asked with slightly arched eyebrow.

“Stepping onto the plate,” said the first.

“And why would I do that?” asked Ian, his voice showing the first hint of irritation.

“We need to weigh you,” said the second. “This is the Weighing Station, this is where we weigh your life.”

“I’m sorry,” he paused, “The Weighing Station? Where the hell am I?”

The two strangers stared at each other. Finally one spoke.

“Ian,” he said calmly, “What is the last thing that you can remember?”

Ian paused and began the process of thinking back. He was in his office. He was shouting at those fools from Marketing. He was showing them who was boss. He might be physically short but what he lacked in height he made up for in sheer management aggression. Then another thought. The pain in his arm, then across his chest, the breathlessness and then the fall forward onto his desk.

Slowly it dawned on him.

“Can you step onto the plate so we can weigh your life,” The calm voice of the first stranger spoke and Ian stepped forward in a daze.

“Thank you,” said the second placing a hand upon Ian’s shoulder.

“Right, let’s start with ‘Joy’,” said the first as he brought out a monitor. Both strangers stared at the screen as Ian watched. After a little while the first gave the monitor a tap.

“Problem?” asked Ian beginning to recover his composure.

“Not a problem,” said the first, “It’s just we are registering very little ‘Joy’ in your life.

“Nonsense,” said Ian, “I have had plenty of joy in my life. I have owned some fine houses, created magnificent businesses, eaten in the finest ……”

Before he could finish the second stranger spoke. “It’s not the joy that you had, it’s the joy you brought to others.”

“Let’s try ‘Care’,” said the first. Both of them scrutinised the screen.

“I cared all my life,” said Ian, “I cared enough to build massive organisations giving jobs to thousands. I made their lives.”

“We can see what you did but did you really care for the people who worked for you? Did you care about them or was it what they could do for you and your ambition?” asked the first.

Ian did not like these two strangers. They had no idea what it was like to run a business. No idea what you had to give up to create such success. You couldn’t waste time caring about people. The greater good was served by building a successful business and then rewarding those that worked hard. “I paid my people well,” he said firmly.

“In money possibly,” said the second. The silence that followed was deafening.

Ian could feel his anger growing. He wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. He had nothing to feel guilty about. He had worked hard, played hard, treated people hard but he had created something special, something that would last. He had some of the best paid management in the country and they did what he said. They respected him, loved him.

“Love,” said the second.

“You cannot fault me there,” said Ian. “I loved my wife, loved my family, loved my friends.”

“That’s good. We measure the love you spread and the love you earned.”

Ian fell silent. As he began to reflect on his life he wondered whether he had truly loved his wife and family. In fact at times he had felt that they had got in the way of his ambition. He knew that he loved them but was it really duty love rather than the genuine love he should have felt. And friends? Did he really have any or were they really business acquaintances. People to keep close for what they might be able to do for him in the future. And who loved him? His wife? His children? He realised that he had hardly seen them having been so busy building his business. His old friends, those from years back, he had gradually dropped as their relative lack of status reflected badly on him.

“Well?” demanded Ian, “What’s the result?”

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you that,” said the lifting two white discs from the screen. “Only you can truly know what joy, care and love you gave to others. How many lives you made better, how many people you helped, how many people you loved and loved you. That is the true weight to someone’s life.”

Ian saw the two discs come towards him. As they rested on his chest he jerked in spasm.

“It’s OK,” said the first, “It’s settled, I think we’ve stabilised it.”

“Well done,” said the second.”

“My god,” said a voice he recognised, “Are those tears falling, is he crying?”

“I didn’t think he could?” said another voice he knew.

Through bright fluorescent yellow and white he could hear the first strangers voice. “It’s amazing how many people seem to cry when we bring them back.”