A Summer Sunday.

A thought on the importance of acting, mortality and the meaning of life in as few words as I could possibly muster.

The things that test us are our own hero's story and every one of us a god unto our selves.

In this life we are each an Odysseus in a Homeric battle set on the stage of this world; this life is the tale of an arduous journey of setting sail for home to win our own freedom.

Our parts must be acted without fear or hesitation. We are both, the actor and the audience and never must we confuse one with the other.

Watching the stage as the pageant unfolds, as beautiful and terrible as it might be, is not the same as playing the part that has been given you.

Whether the scenes be comic or tragic, the source and quality of the laughter and tears and your expression of them, will be measured, perhaps, in applause and jeers.

One must be the child grown into the man who becomes either wise or foolish.

He must wield well the sword in the final battle scene to win what must be won and lose his heart at last to love.

In the final act we will be tested. How well the metal of our armor has thus far been shaped will be proven in the fire of the stage.

The time we have before that last curtain is the business of Saturn and unknown to us. To be certain, the time is always now.

Always.