I’ve cried once when reading a book. It’s pretty rare that I cry. Over the past 25 years, I can probably count the times on one hand. But in Shakespeare’s “King Lear,” I cried.
The once wise and formidable King Lear has made disastrous mistakes at the end of his life. At the end, when everything should have been all peace and comfort, he has royally screwed up. He has misread people, in particular his own family. He thought he could trust those who only ended up hurting him. And he banished the one person who actually loved him. So, he starts to go insane.
If he has misjudged people he knew his whole life, what did he ever know? Did he know anything rightly? Can he trust anyone? Can he trust himself?
No. He can trust no one, especially not himself. Everything starts to unravel. His home, his family, his mind, his very clothes (at one point he is standing naked in a field yelling at a storm).
And all these mistakes, what were they?
Two of his daughters, whom he thought loyal, have betrayed him. And his youngest, whom he thought disloyal, has always loved him. This daughter, Cordelia, whom he banished, comes for him from France and brings an army with her, but is defeated. She and Lear are both taken captive by the faithless sisters. When she asks her father if he would like to see justice done to those treacherous women, he says this (and it’s here that I cried),
“No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison.
We two alone will sing like birds i’th’ cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too–
Who loses and who wins, who’s in, who’s out–
And take upon’s the mystery of things,
As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out
In a walled prison packs and sects of great ones
That ebb and flow by th’ moon.”
What did anything matter?
What did castles matter?
What did politics matter?
What did winners and loses matter?
What did gilded court officials and servants matter?
Without love, none of it matters.
With love, a prison is a fine place to sing and tell old tales.
If you could move mountains and have not love, what good is it?
If you could speak like an angel, but have not love, what good is it?
Your house, your job, your car, your vacation, your kid’s baseball/ football/ cheerleading/ gymnastics/ academic/ music program . . . without love, what does any of it matter?
What does red and blue matter? What does Trump and Hillary matter?
But if there is love, all of it could be lost . . . and yet, you’ve lost nothing, but rather gained infinity.
Do you see what a lack of love does? It makes everything more serious than it should be.
Without love, politics is life and death. Without love, the 2nd grade football games means everything. Without love, all you have is your house.
With love . . . you can laugh and sing even in a cage, for you have found riches hidden in the heart of the world.
I live in Prosper with you. I love it. Love my house. The schools. The whole town! Yet, (let me speak in riddles here), I would burn it all down. All the dross.
And I would have you left with only gold.
At any moment, you may be eternally rich.
Take what’s yours.
Take hold of family and friends.
Be greedy to love others.
Gold is not found in gold.
Gold is found in an open hand.
Tom+