Sacred Heart #12

“Be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”

 The Tempest, Act IV, scene 1

William Shakespeare^[a] (1564 –1616)^[c] was an English playwright, poet and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world’s pre-eminent dramatist. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright.

Perhaps this may be considered another ‘non-spiritual’ offering, coming as it does, from a theatrical play. But it does address one of the most profound beliefs about the nature of this life and this reality – that this is all a dream. You can see this theme, particularly in the eastern philosophies such as Hinduism and Buddhism – as well as very contemporary interpretations such as the movie, The Matrix.

We are all actors, putting on and taking off our costumes and make-up with each incarnation – now a cripple, now a king; taking our cues and playing our roles in a variety of comedies and tragedies. And like our dreams, these lifetimes are barely remembered as we pass from waking to sleep to waking.  

The knowledge that all is ephemeral and insubstantial is not a basis for sorrow but is, as we are urged in the first line, a reason for cheer. “This too shall pass. Nothing lasts forever. The only constant is change,” – all everyday maxims for dealing with the vagaries of life and to remind us that joy is a choice regardless of circumstances.