Segnalato dal blog della SCI, un immaginario e straordinario monologo di Chesterton dal sito dei Gesuiti britannici. Per leggerlo (e capirlo) basta stare seduti su una sedia.
You can be sitting quietly in a chair and suffer an attack of wonder,
simply because you are alive. One moment everything seems boringly
ordinary and the next it is suddenly and rapturously extraordinary. One
moment you are sitting there with your daily but undramatic nihilism,
where nothing seems very special, and the next a chink in your armour
lets in a flood of novelty. You break out of the tiny theatre in which
your own familiar plot is being played. This is the blessing of the
sunrise of wonder. Indeed my main worry about people is that they might
stay prisoners, stuck within all that seeming boredom. I wonder about
their not wondering enough. You don’t have to be some special Alice to
discover wonderland. You are in it all the time. It only needs ordinary
imagination to see it.
So the first fruit of an attack of wonder is the birth of gratitude,
even of humility. All the saints in their different ways lived a
bottomless abyss of thanks. And then they made their lives into divine
poetry, a poetry that opens to an infinite ocean. I exist, I am alive,
what a shock, but more so, what a gift. I am given to myself. Life is
given to me.
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