On the scales, at the end

Your Tony Woodlief thought for the day:

But the thing is, none of us will heave his corpse, in that last day, onto the same scale. You have the life that has unfolded for you, and I the life that has unfolded for me, and all of us have a very simple and terrifying responsibility, which is simply to answer the question, as Victor Frankl would say, that our lives are asking us. You wake up each day or night and you answer your life’s question. You answer it in cold truth or in warm love or with a craven lie, but you answer it all the same, because only you can answer it, and whether the charming genius with the beautiful Anthropologie watch could answer it better than you is no matter, because he has his own question to answer and it is very, very different than yours, and likely you should thank God it is his question to answer and not yours, because who among us can know, in the dread dark of night, the terror that presses down upon another man’s chest?

I do well to handle my own.