How good is Adrian Peterson?

Seriously. How good? At this moment, no one knows the answer ... not even Adrian.

It's not like the Chargers were desperately trying to stop Brooks Bollinger's passing game. Whillakers.

Look at the muscle definition in Adrian Peterson's arm. An OU Asst. Coach, interviewed on radio, said Adrian Peterson is a force of nature in workouts. Gives no quarter, ever. LIKES contact in workouts. Seeks it out. Got mad when he had to wear a "don't hit this player" jersey in practice. Won every single conditioning sprint during his entire stay in Norman. Every one. Every practice. How good is this guy?


Changing subject: How bad were the uniforms in that game?

Ten or so years ago, the Chargers turned maybe the best uniform in NFL history into a still beautiful dark blue jersey uniform. Now, the Chargers have turned a still beautiful uniform into a pedestrian uniform. Uniform-wise, the organization is going backwards. For the good of the league, and the nation, Roger Goodell should step in with a heavy hand. If the Chargers put on some gold pants, or a dynamic shade of California sky-blue pants, all would be forgiven.

On the other side of the scrimmage line, the Vikings have turned a classically simple uniform into a clown suit. The Vikings helmet emblem has clean lines. The clean helmet clashes with the clamorous uniform. Blegh.

Last: Consider the RBs who have come through Norman:

Billy Vessels (Heisman Trophy)
Prentice Gautt (College Football Hall of Fame)
Steve Owens (Heisman Trophy)
Joe Washington
Greg Pruitt (College Football Hall of Fame + 5 NFL Pro Bowls)*
Billy Sims (Heisman Trophy + on periphery of "best ever in NFL" argument)
David Overstreet
Marcus Dupree (on periphery of "best ever" argument)
Adrian Peterson

6 of the 9 RBs are from Texas, exceptions being Vessels and Gautt - Oklahoma, and Dupree - Mississippi.


*was impetus for NCAA banning use of tear-away jerseys: "The Greg Pruitt Rule". In a 10 game 1971 season, sharing carries in a 3 back Wishbone Option, Greg Pruitt rushed for 1665 yards, averaging 9.4 yards per carry. Take a moment to let that sink in.

Blogworld in Madison, WI

Yahoo's outstanding blogger about business and entrepreneurship, and Madison resident: Penelope Trunk

Not that I really know what my husband is doing, though, because we are barely talking. We are doing what I imagine lots of couples do when things fall apart: Acting totally normal at events where normal families show up as families, and then pretending we don’t know each other at home.
[...]
So we are interviewing babysitters
[...]
While I was conducting an interview, my husband was scurrying around getting camp lunches ready for the next day. This is an endearing thing about my husband - he is the king of details, and I am terrible with them. Every time there is something wrong in the lunchbox, my son comes home and asks if I could please not pack his lunch anymore.

So my husband was running around the house and he bumped into me. A normal thing to do would be to say I’m sorry. But we are not talking to each other. And the babysitter saw that an opportunity to be normal was somehow missed.

I needed to say something to explain the weirdness, because good babysitters do not work in homes of messed up families. I thought a little story might make things feel like I have some control. So I said, “Um. My husband and I are, uh. Well. We are…”

And the babysitter said, “Oh, don’t worry. I know. I read your blog.”

Business Time

I thought about putting this up last week. Now, in the last few days, I've seen "Business Time" referenced on Sportscenter, and in my local sports section(in case you had any doubt how I spend my time).

So - to Wikipedia! Where I found that the duo "Flight of the Conchords...Formerly New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo... now has a show on HBO, also titled Flight of the Conchords."

Grace in the Blue Ridge Mountains

Gerard Van der Leun:

As I got up to leave the family of six at the long table across from me was served with the quick flourish and satisfied air of presentation that is the style of serving these days. The was food steaming in front of them, but none of them made a move towards it. Instead, they talked quietly amongst themselves and seemed to come to a decision. They made their selection from among them. It was to be one of the daughters, a girl of about 17 I guessed. The din in the restaurant rose and fell, but the family of six sat quietly and then bowed their heads as one. Then they said grace.

I stood motionless at my table. I had, I thought, never seen this before in a restaurant. I'd seen it in private homes to be sure, but upon reflection I realized that I'd not seen it there in quite sometime. And I was quite sure this was, for me, a rare event. I'd probably not been paying attention since it no doubt went on all the time, but still it was a startling moment. Perhaps I'd just been too long in Seattle, where the only manifestations of spirit are flimsy; where the invocations are raised to a watery Buddhism or bloodless Unitarianism where God is impossibly distant if at all extant. Be that as it may, this simple act of saying grace did not so much shock me as still me. I paused to listen in. And the daughter did not disappoint.

Her's was no gestural grace -- "Bless this food. Amen. Let's eat." -- but an extended meditation on the good fortune to find oneself among family and before a rich selection of food; an acknowledgment of an unusual level of being blessed by God, and a calling down of God's grace on members of the family present and not present, and ending with a wish that God continue to bless the family, the community, the state and the country. Then, and only then, was "Amen" spoken and the meal begun.

Outside along the Asheville streets, it was a balmy evening. Down the block another restaurant offered "Exceptional International Vegetarian Food," and a shop on the corner sold items imported from Africa whose purchase was purported to help suffering children here and there in that blighted continent. A local freebie paper picked off a stack had decided that a photo of a tribal protest in Santiago, Chile on the Dia de la Raza was important information for the citizens of this part of town. Down in the Asheville hipster-dopester-homeless gulch at a more cut-rate vegetarian restaurant, citizens with shaved heads, "message" t-shirts, multiple facial piercing and full-body tattoos were climbing the stairs in search of a bran muffin, bitching about George Bush, global warming, and their personal collection of STDs while complaining of residual racism in a city that seems more white than Seattle.

The road back to the house in the hills was dark and winding and you had to take it slow. Going back it was nice to know that somewhere, somehow, and for reasons that sometimes challenge all understanding, there were people still asking God to bless America.

For now, that's the big headline news of the day here in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Blog Vacation is over!

However, at this time, I don't want to blog 5 days a week.

For at least a couple of months, I want to be more quiet. I want to let things marinate a bit more, without consistently dashing off commentary. I want to see, from a quieter place, what is interesting. I suspect this will result in quirkier, nerdier posts.

For most of my life, and for most of this blog, I've wondered:
If we're all going to die, why do anything? Why make any effort? Why be virtuous? (1)

For the first time, ever, I'm pretty satisfied with my understanding of the why of existence:

First: There's obviously purpose to existence, as God is not a random prankster. Yet, humans are incapable of ultimate understanding of that purpose. Our consciousness are not profound enough to fully comprehend.

I like a scene in "The Legend of Baggar Vance." Golf caddie Baggar Vance represents God come to Earth. Baggar gives the boy narrator a lesson on putting, and the lesson doubles as a lesson about life.

Since you know you want to know, the condensed lesson is: Find your true swing, in harmony with all that is, and let it flow. Get out of your own way.

Baggar patiently answers all the child's questions, until the very end, when Baggar makes a final profound statement and the child asks "Why?". Baggar Vance doesn't answer. Instead, after patiently answering question after question, Baggar abruptly walks away, whistling a happy tune.

This scene cracks me up. God will not answer "Why?" He did not design us to comprehend the ultimate answer. (2).

Second: That life has purpose is not necessarily enough to motivate me to virtuous action. What if my designed purpose is to commit constant unvirtuous action? Why wouldn't it be? Somebody has to do it! Why not me? Why am I not designed for a life free of virtue; and filled only with pleasure-seeking and avoidance of discomfort? What if my eternal purpose is all about failure and hedonism?

Therefore, again: why try? Why put up with pain and discomfort in service of any virtuous action whatsoever? Seems a bad bet.

Short, humanly comprehendable answer: It makes us happy. It's who we are. In this way, our life is about seeking pleasure: doing our best is simply more fun, and more pleasurable, than the alternative.

God acts for eternally useful purpose. We are designed in God's image. Therefore, we are designed to act for eternally useful purpose, and doing our best is a natural part of that. It is fulfilling our highest purpose. It is our happiness. It is our self-actualization. Also, it is a familiar place. Our souls know and love that place.

To do less than our best is to cast ourselves into a hostile wilderness, with only a snow-cone for comfort. Misery is closing in on all sides, and all we've got is this drippy, melty, disintegrating snow-cone. (3,4)

Third: I'm now okay with the design of existence. The difficult stuff strikes me as being interdependent with the pleasurable and good stuff, similar to the way in which we cannot have a front of the hand without an interdependent back of the hand. Consider: Can we have pleasure without pain? Comfort without discomfort? Significant moments without certain eventual death?

There's purpose in difficult circumstance. I'm now okay that discomfort and difficult circumstance will inevitably and consistently happen to me. I'm now okay that I will never make it to a place from which I will be free of pain and discomfort. Hunger always returns. Body and mind always need exercise and sleep. Habit and momentum always need respecting. I'm now okay with all that stuff. It's all good. I shall not fight or lament the design of existence as much as before. I shall find my true swing, in harmony with all that exists, and let it flow. More than ever before, I shall get out of my own way.(5)

Fourth, shifting topic: When I started blogging, I had a passion to learn about, and to express myself about: politics, conservative governing philosophy, media, and Iraq.

At this point, I've attained excellent understanding of these subjects, and I've fully expressed what I've understood:

• Politics is messy - including Republican politics.
• Democracy is the worst form of government, except for every other form of government.
• Leftists are foolish narcissists in denial.
• Free markets work better than chosen smart people practicing market manipulation.
• True compassion resides in seeking equality of freedom and opportunity, as opposed to seeking equality of outcome.
• Media reporting is hugely biased, though media doesn't comprehend the full extent. They do understand they are advocating a liiittle bit, even as they are loath to admit advocating anything at all.
• Iraqis have won Iraq, mainly b/c Iraqis are finally getting it: a) U.S. are the good guys, and b) representative government is better than totalitarian government. Iraq is now a big job which needs finishing. The Iraqi government will no longer have a national policy of encouraging terrorists to attack America.
• Afghanistan: I don't know what to think, except it's good the evil Taliban are not running the government in Kabul.

For a while, I don't want to comment on politics, the left(6,7), Conservative thought, media, or Iraq. I've explored those subjects to my satisfaction. Now, I'd rather read about the greatest athletes ever to wear every uniform number. I'd rather point to the Dallas Cowboys' outrageous domination of all-time uniform numbers in the low seventies.

Why do our best?

Why do our best?

It makes us happy. It's who we are.

God does His best. He would not do less. We are created in God's image, and are therefore designed to do our best.

"The very word 'man' implies 'God,' the very word 'relative' implies 'Absolute.'"
- Frithjof Schuon

God exists in an eternal dimension. We are designed to aim towards that which has eternal value, such as: love, courage, grace, forgiveness, wisdom, loving action, et al.

We have free will. Thus we may freely choose to act in service of eternal values.

We are designed not merely to understand eternal values, but rather to be filled with them. For instance, we are designed not merely to understand the definition of love, but rather to be love - to embody love - as an active state of being. This is more profound than merely understanding love as a definition.

Thus empowered, thus inspired, we will naturally choose moral action. We will naturally choose to do our best. How could we do less? Our choices will have eternal value.

"the devil ... never sleeps but goes about seeking whom he may devour."
- Thomas a Kempis, in Imitation of Christ

We are also designed to be imperfect. We exhibit both eternally useful values and eternally useless values. We are moral, then immoral. We do our best, then less than our best.

Yet, we are not designed to aim ourselves towards that which is temporary and eternally useless. Truth and happiness do not await us there.

When we have moments of weakness: when we temporarily believe we will be happiest doing less than our best; when we lie to ourselves; when we succumb to devilment; when we succumb to the base parts of our nature - whatever your preferred description: in those moments, we fail to be true to our design, to our Designer, and to ourselves.

In those moments, we lie to ourselves. We tell ourselves we will be happier doing less than our best. This is a lie and a fantasy. In the moment, we do not recall why it is a lie and a fantasy. In the moment, we pretend the fantasy is truth.

"Everything has already been said, and well said; but one must always recall it anew."
-Frithjof Schuon

We are designed in God's image. We aim towards that which has eternal value. In the aiming, and the being, and the taking of action: we experience wisdom, virtue, and love. We experience fulfillment, satisfaction, pleasure, accomplishment, and life.

Why do our best?

It makes us happy. It's who we are.

And it's just more fun!

Companion post: Do your best

Envy, psyche blogs, sports laboratories

I have learned much via skimming these psyche blogs:

neo-neocon
Shrinkwrapped
Dr. Sanity
One Cosmos
Sigmund, Carl, and Alfred

I've learned about Psychological Defense Mechanisms and Malignant Narcissism. I've learned despair is the emotion behind much anger. Today, I learned about envy:

The psychoanalytic understanding of envy is that it is an unconscious fantasy aimed at attacking, damaging, or destroying what is good, because of the intolerable feeling that one does not possess and control the object of goodness. As such, it is an aspect of what Freud called the death instinct, since it ultimately involves a destructive attack on the sources of life and goodness. Particularly envious individuals cannot tolerate the pain of not possessing and controlling the "good object," so they preemptively spoil it so that they don't have to bear the pain.

Envy is a fantasy! Of destruction! Oddly more exciting, and definitely more horrible, than I had previously considered. We can see this instinct for destruction in the interplay of one year olds. We can read about it in Genesis - in the story of Cain and Abel: destruction made real, then repeated over and over throughout human history, and up to the present moment.

Cain and Abel, by Titian

If we can tolerate "the pain of not possessing or controlling the 'good object'", we can move through situations without envious fantasizing, or worse.

What underlies "the pain of not possessing or controlling the 'good object'"?

This pain must occur when we define ourselves according to something outside ourselves - such as other persons. Conversely, we could define ourselves from within: such as defining our best possibility of performance; or defining our best previous performance, then attempting to best it.

In this area, youth sports can provide valuable lessons. Yet, those lessons are rarely learned. Most coaches have not themselves internalized the skills of creating self-defined parameters of measurement, and of creating self-defined possibilities of performance.

Youth sport is the perfect laboratory and classroom for such lessons: sometimes an opponent simply cannot be defeated on the scoreboard. The opponent is too fast, or too well-coached, or too something or other. Except for flukey circumstance, NO AMOUNT of in-game effort will bring victory, and NO AMOUNT practice effort will create victory.

What is the lesson? That we ought be thrilled and fulfilled when uncontrollable circumstances favor us with a weak opponent? That we ought be devastated and unfulfilled when uncontrollable circumstances disfavor us with a strong opponent?

The lesson is to define ourselves by what we can control: what is inside of us? What is our best possible performance? The lesson is to refuse to define ourselves by uncontrollable circumstances. The lesson is to refuse to define ourselves according to opponents who equate to little Ladanian Tomlinsons, little Michael Jordans, or little one-name Brazilian futbol stars; AND to refuse to define ourselves by opponents who are smaller, slower, and less coordinated than we are. The lesson is to refuse to define ourselves by the beautiful woman who married into her husband's inherited fortune and moved in down the street; AND t0 refuse to define ourselves by other women with maybe less education, less polish, and less wealthy husbands.

Tom Landry used to say: "I do not worry about what I cannot control."

I understand his statement at a deeper level than I used to understand it. I respect it more.

Defining ourselves from within, rather than being defined by outside forces, is often a struggle. The youth sports players and parents on the opposite sideline are celebrating awfully hard. The beautiful woman befriends you exactly well enough to apply the needle to the insecurities she discovers in you. The pain of not possessing and controlling the good object rises within us - maybe is designed to again and again rise within us. Yet, we are designed to move through the pain with the aid of spiritual understanding (and psyche blogs). God doesn't give us any challenges we cannot handle.

How disrespectful are we, to ourselves, if we measure ourselves against sports parents and trophy wives, as opposed to measuring ourselves against what God created us to be? To measure ourselves against others in this fashion is to be INCREDIBLY disrespectful to ourselves, and INCREDIBLY disrespectful to the God who created us as unique individuals. Pish, I say.

Consider a topical story: the New England Patriots.

Bill Simmons says the Pats are running up scores via late-game "Eff You TD"s: "New England continues to send a message: We're going to keep winning and embarrass you in the process."

Might we have enough self-respect to decline to measure ourselves according to Bill Belichik's dicta? Might we have enough self-respect to measure ourselves against self-generated criteria, regardless of how the Pats perform, and regardless of what might be the Pats petty motivation?

If Simmons is correct, the New England Patriots are not embarrassing us. They are embarrassing themselves.

Sport is about many things, including moments of beauty which hint at the greatness of God - which hint at the existence of something beyond that which is strictly Earthbound, and horizontally affixed. If you watch, you will notice transcendent moments infused throughout sport, and saturated all around it. You will be moved.



The New England Patriots reveal their motivations to be base, lowdown, covered in muck and nastiness. The Pats are not steering towards transcendent light. The Pats are not steering towards love. I am embarrassed for them.

Worse, their naked baseness makes me shudder. It hints at something neither virtuous nor transcendent.

Gustave Doré: Cain kills Abel

Fitchburg, 10:45 AM

rust red leaves twirl down
prompting my yuckifying
suck-ass leaf haiku


leaf haiku which doesn't suck

cool photo

Fitchburg, 6:45 AM

Niece: "It's my birthday!"
smile smile smile smile smile smile smile
smile smile smile smile smile

Fitchburg, 6:10 PM, soccer game

Me: "Go kick the ball!"
Niece's thoughts: Fall back! Waaay back!
Does Uncle see me?

Fitchburg, 7:14 AM

red and blue backpacks
marking spots in schoolbus line
beget warm-up play

Do your best

Wikipedia:

The Winged Victory of Samothrace, also called Nike of Samothrace,[1] is a marble sculpture of the Greek goddess Nike (Victory)
[...]
A partial inscription on the base of the statue includes the word "Rhodhios" (Rhodes), indicating that the statue was commissioned to celebrate a naval victory by Rhodes, at that time the most powerful maritime state in the Aegean. This would date the statue to 288 BC at the earliest.
[...]
The Victory is one of the Louvre's greatest treasures, and it is today displayed in the most dramatic fashion, at the head of the sweeping Daru staircase. The [unintended] loss of the head and arms, while regrettable in a sense, is held by many to enhance the statue's depiction of the supernatural.

Do your best.

You will, of course, make good moral choices along the way. This is part of doing your best. Pray for guidance.

Jesus said the greatest commandments are to love God, and to love your fellow man. Doing your best is the finest expression of love for God, and of love for fellow man. Any moment you are engaged in optimal activity is a moment you are contributing as much as you possibly can to both God and man. You are being all you can be. This is the path of love, fulfillment, and happiness.

We are designed to do our best. We are happiest when we are faithful to our design and our Designer. Doing our best is faith in action. It is living fully. It is glorifying God.

We are designed to thrive. The injection of human intelligence onto Earth was an event of cosmic importance. The existence of our intelligence argues for the conclusion that we are designed to thrive. Therefore, do your best is not an exhortation to unhappy or painful martyrdom. It's an invitation to thrive upon the Earth, as we are designed to do.

Consistent with thriving, and with "not martyrdom", we honor the human design which requires both stress (activity) and rest. Rest - both physical and mental - is critical to our well-being. It is part of making good choices. The same applies to appropriate physical and mental stress (activity). We are not created to speed the wearing away of our minds and bodies. Balance. Do your best to actively stress your mind and body. Do your best to rest your mind and body. This pleases God.

A side point, also related to the "not martyrdom" meme: in a market economy, creating wealth is a tremendous contribution to one's fellow man. Wealth begets wealth for others. It contributes to the welfare of others. Creating wealth is loving action. Go forth. Create wealth. Love. Laugh. Thrive. This pleases God.

Rather than being an exhortation to martyrdom, do your best is an invitation to life. It is an invitation to join the game, and to play amongst the friends you will naturally acquire along the way.

Do your best.

Above: The Winged Victory of Samothrace, displayed atop the Daru staircase at the Louvre.

Postscript: why?

Gaghdad Bob once said it's best if we do not question whether or not we ought do our best, i.e. we ought not agonize over: If we're all going to die anyway, why even try? He believes our best course is to simply open ourselves to God's light, just as a flower turns and opens itself to sunlight.

I have agonized: If we're all going to die anyway, why try? Why suffer pain and discomfort in any effort to accomplish anything?

The answer is that our existence is not merely about our time on Earth, and our existence is not merely about what humans can understand and conceive. If our existence were strictly about an Earthly dimension, inside of which we were barrelling toward the certain oblivion of death, there would be no purpose in giving effort towards any goal. Fortunately, our existence is about more than an Earthly dimension.

The Winged Victory of Samothrace is the finest artistic example of the melding of human effort with eternal, supernatural spark. When Liza Minelli was asked to sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", she would reply: "It's been done." In depicting the melding of human effort with eternal spark: Winged Victory has been done. h/t

Some things - such as Why even try? - cannot be understood via strictly Earthbound logic. The answers can only be sensed, and only in light of the eternal, supernatural, vertical element of existence.

When doing our best, why are we more comfortable, in the presence of inherent discomforts ... than we oppositely would have been in the face of the ephemeral (and often false) comforts we might have perceived while doing less than our best? When doing our best, our comfort in the face of discomfort occurs partly because of a supernatural spark of love, and partly because we are designed to do our best.

A not completely fathomable eternal spark creates the condition of us being happier when doing our best - even in the face of attendant discomforts. We might define the not completely fathomable as love. It's a clue that our entire existence is not limited to our Earthly existence. It sparks the satisfaction we experience when we are doing our best. It sparks the moments of joy, and the bone deep senses of fulfillment.

Separately, yet related, we find comfort and pleasure in doing what we are designed to do. Doing our best is like coming home. It is fulfilling our intended purpose. Doing our best is a familiar place. Our souls know that place.

Doing less than our best is like being cast into a hostile wilderness, with only a snow-cone for comfort. That snow-cone is melting fast.

Do your best. Come home to life.


Related: Victory; Bliss; Unfinished

Internet Marketing

done right.

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Also done right:

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MKH's pro-omnivore response ad:

"I feel so strong and have no vitamin deficiencies."

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to Alicia Silverstone's pro-vegetarian ad:

"I feel so much better and have so much more energy."

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I'm declaring an October blog vacation.

`

I need it - as I am edgy and irritable.

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Sporadic posts? Don't know yet...

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Enjoy life. It is sweet.

Haunting beauty: Shiri Negari

A "rare and radiant maiden" - full of life...

struck down

by the evil liar

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

just as surely as if he had personally put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger.

Shiri's mother: Everyone who met her admired her strong spirit. She was little, and looked very fragile, but still she was strong.

Shiri's sister Sharon: She had this way of walking, so... self-confident... like someone who knows where she wants to go, and what she wants to do. She never looked confused. And there was something royal about her - in her very long blond hair, and her amazing smile - that made people unable to ignore her.
[...]
And after she finished her service in the army, she could've just forget about them [some struggling people], but she just went to one of the big supermarkets there, and she asked the manager if he could help her. [...] She almost commanded him to help, because she said his neighbors needed him. And it wasn't even special for her. She never told many people about it. She never thought that she should be proud of it. It was just natural for her... to try to help as much as she can.

Shiri's cousin Sharona: She didn't have even one drop of wickness. She was always looking and searching for ways to help other people.

Sheri's sister Shely: She was very brave. I think that even by how she died you can see how brave she was. She act as if everything is okay: she didn't scream, she didn't shout anything. When the paramedics came to her and asked her what happened, she even smiled. So when they took her off, at the hospital, they were sure they will see her again. And she was taken into the surgery room, and she didn't come out. I thought that Shiri was so brave and so strong, that nothing could happen to her. I didn't believe anything could happen to her.

Sheri's friend Ron: I don't remember her as someone who died in a terror attack. I remember her as Shiri-
Shiri's friend Hadas: As the winner
Ron: with a big smile, as the winner. As, um..
Hadas: As the winner
Ron: as the winner, that's the word. She was the winner.
Hadas: Yes

This website gives detail, including an inspiring YouTube tribute.

Shiri Negari's life stands as a rebuke to the evil Iranian Mullahs. May the beauty and liveliness displayed in this photo haunt them, one way or another.

Note: "rare and radiant maiden" is from Edgar Allen Poe.

Related: 1LT Travis Manion

Bliss

The curious thing about life is we can never really, truly, actually know it's meaning and it's purpose. That is beyond our capability to understand.

We can postulate, but only at shallow levels:

• The meaning of life is to live it, or
• The meaning of life is to glorify God, or
• The meaning of life is to prepare our souls for eternity.

That's all good stuff, yet it's necessarily shallow. Human capacity to understand is shallow.

Yet, reason tells us God acts in logical fashion. God is not a random prankster. Therefore exists a path of cohesive truth which stretches all the way to the very nub of the purpose of all existence. It's just that our brains are not strong enough to take the entire path.

Do we seek to get as far along the path as possible? For now, I think this: if it is your bliss, seek away!