In Ivan Goncharov’s classic, Obmarov, Schtolz, one of the good friends of the title character chastised him, saying:

“Man was created to order his own being, and even to change his own nature; yet, instead, he goes and develops a paunch, and then supposes that nature has laid upon him that burden.  Once upon a time you too had wings.  Now you have laid them aside.”

Oblomov replies, “Where are they?  I am powerless, completely powerless.”

“Rather, you are determined to be powerless.”  Comes the response.

We are often like poor Oblomov.

Assuming that we are powerless.

Assuming that we are afflicted.

Assuming that we are destined for nothing remarkable.

But once upon a time, you too had wings.

Perhaps it’s time to pick them up again.