Hello, this majestical roof.
Fretted with golden fire. (or) Delight in what is - setting agenda and anxiety aside.
I am inhabiting the immediate and leaving gratitude for another day. I’m letting what is be what is. I want the God’s-eye-view. The one that looks and says, “It is good.” Without agenda or anxiety - the welcome of what is becomes delight in what is. So here I go:
Hello, this majestical roof. (Hamlet Act II Scene 2 for reference)
Golden fire, sparks still spinning out from the Great Igniting that blew life into the Nothing, setting it aglow and whirling, we see as tame and ruly stars all numbered, planets named, the masterpiece complete. But no.
What frets this brave o’erhanging firmament is something more like paint splatter, like flakes of gilding carelessly applied, flecking the walls of heaven with excess. These are but the chaotic spattering of raindrops at the ragged edge of the hurricane; they are not the main event.
Look up at night and know that there is more. Much more. What a piece of work is a man, and yet he is not my delight. How could he be? He’s not enough, and neither is this majestical roof over my head. It’s made to crack and shatter into pieces, to sparkling confetti, to break like an egg so the new life can emerge.
Be disappointed with this glorious world, a yet more glorious awaits. What gilding will then blind our eyes, if this eggshell is majestical?
It’s good that you’re here. I’m glad you exist.
