The soul’s gymnasium is deep sleep. We know something about waking and a little of dreaming but nothing about “the force that through the green fuse drives the flower,” that inspires and invigorates.
What I do dutifully does not emit a glow.
If a man’s joy is jammed, his sole remediation is to inspire its release in somebody else. He has to give what he thinks he doesn’t have.
We are exhorted to think outside the box. Unfortunately, thinking is the box.
Diaphragmatic breathing changes everything, inside and out. Thoracic breathing is good enough, but no man finds his inspiration in mere adequacy.