What, in fact, is man responsible to? What does he relate to? What is the final horizon of his actions, the absolute vanishing point of everything he does, the undeceivable "memory of being," the conscience of the world and the final "court of appeal"? What is the decisive standard of measurement, and the background or the field of each of his existential experiences? And likewise, what is the most important witness or that secret sharer in his daily conversations within himself, the thing that - regardless of what situation he is thrown into - he incessantly inquires after, depends upon and toward which his actions are directed, the thing that, in its omniscience and its incorruptibility, both haunts and saves him, the only thing he can trust in and strive for?
Ever since childhood, I have felt that I would not be myself - a human being - if I did not live in a permanent and manifold tension with this "horizon" of mine, the source of meaning and hope - and ever since my youth, I've never been certain that this is an "experience of God" or not. Whatever it is, I'm certainly not a proper Christian and Catholic (as so many of my good friends are) and there are many reasons for this. For instance, I do not worship this god of mine and I don't see why I should. What he is - a horizon without which nothing would have meaning and without which I would not, in fact, exist - he is by virtue of his essence, and not thanks to some strong-arm tactics that command respect. By worshipping him in some model fashion, I don't think I could improve either the world or myself, and it seems quite absurd to me that this "intimate-universal" partner of mine - who is sometimes my conscience, sometimes my hope, sometimes my freedom and sometimes the mystery of the world - might demand to be worshiped or might even judge me according to the degree to which I worship him.
Vaclav Havel
Letters to Olga
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