Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5, lines 22-31
I had to study Macbeth at school. I hated it. But those lines stuck in my head. How apt, how poetically majestically spoken?
Since my father passed away I have found myself questioning the value of my life. Annoyed that, in some ways, my hopes and dreams have faded to naught. The things that once were important no longer hold much value and I wonder, am simply an idiot, full of sound and fury but signifying nothing? Am I the only person who thinks like I do?
I am frustrated that I do not live in the moment. I am unaware and I sleep. No matter how hard I try I am simply reacting from moment to moment to what fate throws at me. I don’t appear to be in control and in those moments of foolishness when I think that I am, fate deals me an unexpected blow that I never saw coming as if to saw “Fool….”
I know that real life, the real richness, the real me and the real truth lies within me but I am constantly distracted by the foolishness of outer life. I would sometimes like to escape and simply meditate until I too see the face of God but I have duties and obligations.
I am constantly in a state of anxiousness that I am not doing what is good for my soul or what is good for my family, friends and ego.
I think in many respects The Bard was right. This is life. What he fails to mention in these few lines is that our true self, our inner God-like eternal self is no fool. Its tale full of sound and fury is an experience that for everyone else, may signify nothing, but, for the true self, is the way to self knowledge.