Next we must form an estimate of
the matter that we mean to deal with, and compare our strength with the deed we
are about to attempt: for the bearer ought always to be more powerful than his
load.
Indeed, loads that are too heavy
for their bearer must of necessity crush him. Some affairs also are not so
important in themselves as they are prolific and lead to much more business, for
which employments, as they involve us in new and various forms of work, ought
to be refused.
Neither should you engage in
anything from which you are not free to retreat: apply yourself to something
that you can finish, or at any rate can hope to finish. You had better not meddle
with those operations that grow in importance, while they are being transacted,
and that will not stop where you intended them to stop.
“Oh
dear, what have I gotten myself into?” Yes, we all know that moment.
That
thought may well come with a sense of surprise, helplessness, and regret. It
would have been better if I had not engaged at all, than struggling to
extricate myself now that I am committed to an impossible task.
Again,
the temptation is to run away, while the wisdom should be to engage with
restraint from the beginning. I have not made a mistake in taking a bite,
though I have made a mistake in biting off more than I could chew. As the sign
says at my favorite Chinese buffet, “Take what you want, but eat what you take.”
I should
know my own limits first; then I should also know the scope of what I am trying
to achieve. These two levels of awareness go together like a hand in a glove.
Or, to
put it in another way, few things are more annoying than a shoe that is too
small, or a shoe that is too large. Sure, it might look good at the shop, while
the salesman is working me up for his commission, but walk in it for a few
miles, and the pain will teach me quite the lesson about the difference between
appearance and reality.
There is
no longer any question in my mind that I am made to love without condition, as
much as my selfishness may resist that calling, complete with all the stubborn
kicking and screaming. The trick is in learning how to love, in deciding where
I can do my best, in measuring what I am able to do, in knowing when to hang
on, and when to let go.
If you
are a bigwig, like Seneca or Serenus, born to the purple, as they say, I can’t
help you with that part of the dilemma. But I suspect that such a difference in
degree makes no real difference in kind. We will all go through exactly the
same challenges, though we will do so in our own ways, and in our own time. The
breadth of it all does not alter the depth of it all.
It is quite
humbling to learn that I am not the Master of the Universe; it is also deeply
fulfilling and liberating. The world was not made for me, but I was made as one
piece the world. How might I give, instead of asking to receive? How might I
serve, as opposed to demanding to be served? Let me discern the weight I am
able to carry.
Baby
steps. Little bits. Tiny bites. One day at a time. Do what you can, and ask for
no more. I used to laugh at such silly claims, and then I finally started
growing up. I became bigger as I became smaller.
He must increase, as I must
decrease.
I knew
there must be some serendipity, perhaps even Providence, in my parents naming
me after St. John the Baptist.
The greatest
dreams mean absolutely nothing without a sincere sense of proportion. Run with
life, but don’t let life run away with you.
Written in 8/2011
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