I felt this truth sharply when a messenger arrived with news of my son’s death. My heart did not break because the world ended, but because I had been looking only at the tender green shoots of life and reputation. I was like a man whose eyes are sore from disease, seeing only what is fresh and soft while ignoring the solid rock beneath his feet. To wish for children to live forever is to misunderstand nature; to desire praise is to feed on things that rot in an hour.

I ask you to close your mouth when you feel the urge to demand gratitude or fear the loss of loved ones. Turn your gaze away from the fleeting season and look at the whole tree, which stands firm through winter storms. Do not let your mind linger on what is passing but attend to the duty before you. The leaves will fall, the applause will fade, but your work remains if it is done with a clear and healthy eye.