Socrates: "Know thyself."
Jesu: "No thyself."
The stage of pruning.
I won’t tell you how wonderful you are. It’s more likely I will tell you how distracted you are. Or how complicated and scattered, in very many directions. This is when a vine needs to be pruned, in order to achieve voluptuous growth.
Yet there is risk of confusion at every turn of phrase. Even celibate 14th century monks had the corruption of trendiness. Mea culpas for an irrelevant morsel. The guiding question is, “To what growth does this pruning lend?” Is the aim beautiful? Self-conquest is a means, not an end.
The same must be understood of indulgence. Does it diminish me? Exploit another? Sustain an unfair trade? Is it ugly? No? Then saborear!! Savor it!
There is a season for everything. In a single day there is death and rebirth, rest and accomplishment. Opportunities for humbling acceptance of growth and joyous conflict-free indulgence.
Grim stoicism is not the path. A life of ease is not worthy of notice. Only battle scars are worth retelling. Track records, not promises, bring celebrational joy. This weaves a home, a society, a lasting victory.
It is not too late.
