A Brief Meditation on Divine Discontent

We are the inheritors of the restless. When once there was empty field, they dreamed and from their dreams a city called Rome was born. When Rome’s shadow twisted man and tore at his heart, men dreamed of a world where love might guide the hands of the mighty. From their dreams came a Christian Rome that saw greatness as meaning more than power. Again and again the old world dies that the new might be born, and placing the blocks atop one-another are those who refuse to rest on that which came before.

Its so easy to look around and see the malaise of decay and stagnation, but look within yourself: a fire burns, passed down through century after long century. It flows into your limbs and animates them to action. It flows into your mind and fills you with the purpose and drive to build and rebuild that which came before. It burns within your heart, and the hearts of every living man, just waiting for a breath to turn its smoldering heat into the fires of a great forge. Look upon the buildings of New York, those towers raised by hearts that saw a world none else could see. They wrote the words of their heart across the city: Excelsior, ever upward. Even now that those words have faded, and the crown of the West no longer shines like it once did, the flame still flickers. In the end, the essence of that spirit is to say “that which is, is not that which will be”.

So stoke the flame inside your soul, and let each movement of your limbs be a reflection of your spirit. Grab the legacy you’ve been handed. Use it to build something that others will look upon, and in looking feel the flame in their own heart stir.