Miloš Forman - “Amadeus” (1984)

Time doesn’t matter. Place doesn’t matter. The story does not matter either. What matters is something beyond all that. These are just tools, ways to guide us to the essence. It’s where we find the divine — not outside ourselves as we usually think. And if that’s true, does it mean that the divine comes from within us? That it’s in our power to create it? That we are in control? 

If music is a piece of the divine in our lives, how better to express it than through a timeless genius? And boldly enough, the genius is not an object of admiration. Not the heart of it. An engine, driving the story forward, but not the story itself. Its brilliance is so strong, it needs a veil to soften the impact when we first encounter it. We need something familiar, something safe, something we can relate to before we’re ready to experience the full miracle.

And the true meaning? It’s waiting for us. Patiently. It knows we’ll get there eventually. And even if we don’t fully understand it, its power still leaves a mark on our souls. Or maybe… maybe it’s all just in my head. Shh.. I can hear it now.. It’s taking over my mind. There’s God. Everywhere. Inside me.

But the divine doesn’t have to be a complex genius. It can be simple, unobtrusive, easy— comforting us, making us feel real. It’s when we get goosebumps, when we can’t catch our breath, when our minds go blank and we lose our sense of direction. That’s when we’ve found God.

And this God? It doesn’t ask for redemption, obedience, or blind faith. It doesn’t confuse us or lead us into doubt. It doesn’t demand to hurt ourselves or others, because it’s so weak, it constantly needs to test our loyalty. It quietly lives behind the “Play” button. One second away from finding peace. And in peace, we don’t feel entitled, or superior, or patronizing. We’re just… happy. 

And really, what more could anyone want in this life?