You know by now that you cannot plan life to your satisfaction. Or, if you do succeed in a plan, there is no guarantee that it will continue to be fulfilled. There are many surprises for you behind the curtain of life. Many Jack-in-the-Boxes.
There are surprises you like, and there are surprises that disenchant you. But the surprises themselves are impartial. They do not single you out. They are part of this mystery of life, a mystery only because your plans do not take enough into consideration. This is not a weakness, beloveds. This is the playing-out of life. Life is meant to have surprises for you.
You do not know which guise the surprises will take. And you can be surprised when there is no surprise! Yet you have say. You have lots of say. You influence the game a great deal, but you do not have final say. Be glad for this. You really wouldn’t want the directorship when your vision is so limited.
Be not affronted that you are a player in life. Play for all you are worth. Get out there and play. Don’t think too much. Thinking has its place, but not as your lord and master. Once an inning has been played, go onto the next one. Do not indulge yourself in replays.
So this morning, get up and meet life. Get up and enjoy it. You are experiencing life. And you experience life as no one ever has before. Life is ever new before you. It is a feast you are to partake of, and a feast that you inevitably share.
You are the taster of life for the whole world.
The world dances for you. All the dances are for you. And new ones are invented every day, and the steps change before your very eyes. And yet there is a rhythm. It may be indiscernible to you, yet there is an underlying rhythm. You will catch on to it. Or, even if you don’t, it will catch you. You will find yourself dancing a new rhythm. A two-step becomes a 2-million step. The floor beneath you is pulled up to reveal another dance floor that you didn’t know was there, and another and another. Life is up in the air for you.
You explore with your magnifying glass. And you explore with your telescope. And you explore as no other explorer before you.
You sort life out, even though it is unsortable. You figure it out, even though, from where you stand or sit, it is unfigurable. And when you do figure something out, it has slipped away already the same way as what you view as you look into a kaleidoscope. The configuration changes, and you can’t get it back with any certainty.
Yet would you really have it stay the same? Would you want a still picture of your life taken in sepia that would be inalterable? Would you sit in the exact same spot surrounded by the exact same sights? Would you really want to stay twenty or have your child stay two? Given this choice, would you take it?
Given the choice, would you stay frozen in this illusory time?
Would you have your step stopped in mid-air?
Would you keep your hands folded as they are now?
Would you not want to step beyond?
Would you not want to pull the curtain open?
If your life were sustained exactly as it is for one week, one day, one hour, wouldn’t you beg to be able to get up and start moving?
Life is about movement, beloveds. Life is about getting up and moving around. Even as the camera is taking the picture, the picture is changing. The sun is moving, and light is a chimera that winks at you.
Drink the Holy Grail of life more than you contemplate it.