'Striding on the tapestries of god...'

Posted on 29 Apr 2024 @ 6:16pm by Verity Thorne

435 words; about a 2 minute read

“And men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty waves of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, yet pass over the mystery of themselves without a thought,” Verity read, taking a moment before he closed the old-fashioned book, putting it down and looking directly at the screen that recorded his log. “I’ve often wondered how Saint Augustine's observations could apply today.

"With all that has happened on this ship lately, I don't think we have time to admire anything, or to spend much time pondering the mystery of ones’ self. I see around me strong people trying to survive and make sense of this future that we have been pulled to.”

For a moment, Verity considered it, sitting back in his chair. He soon shifted though, trying to get comfortable, reaching for his cup of tea. “Morale has not improved, although I think people are putting it to the side to get through the next few days. They are tired. I am tired.” He let out a long sigh before taking a sip of tea, closing his eyes.

“Saint Augustine wrote that the mind commands the body and is instantly obeyed. The mind commands itself and meets resistance. I remember when I thought it to be true, back when I was younger. Now, as I get older, I am certain that my body isn’t obeying the commands of my mind anymore.

"The truth is though, right in this moment, I am lucky. Others have suffered so much around me. People have died. Countless souls if taking this time into account. But even with that in mind, is it enough to make us think that we can play God? That we have the right to? Fate belongs in His hands, not ours. And thinking otherwise is a temptation born from pride...and brings with it the danger of hubris.

"So all that really matters is what we can do right here and now, for each other.”

For a moment, Verity’s eyes went to the book, closed, well-worn by time and reading. He pressed his lips together, frowning as he closed his eyes. “I pray that whatever happens, we are not punished for our pride. And that we can go back to our own time and our own lives.” His eyes opened and the frown eased, a small smile coming to him. “And start healing again.” He stopped, turning his head to the door as he heard them slide open and reached out to end the log.

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