Make Something of Yourself

Models work to perfect their bodies, so that when they reveal themselves disrobed, the public will admire them.

Similarly, a poet works to cultivate his inner life.  So when he discloses it to the world, the world will think it is beautiful, sensitive, profound ...    Saints and preachers are like the poet.  They work to perfect their souls, anticipating a future day when everything will be revealed, and judged.

To anticipate having to disclose or reveal oneself, (physically or spiritually, to gods or men), can give birth to the highest forms of human excellence, or the worst forms of error.

Models, we know, can get obsessed with the appearance of their bodies.  They might starve and purge themselves to attain a more ideal form.  Or a poet can become disgusted with the torpor and malaise of his everyday life, and torment himself for his lack of inspiration.  Or a monk may fast and beat himself, to purge his soul of impurities.  In each case, the strenuous efforts have ironic effects:  Instead of making the body, the mind, or the soul more admirable, they make them more twisted and ugly.

If excellence is not conceived and pursued with moderation and humility, a desperate extremism can result; and the model, the poet, and the would-be saint, wind up mutilating themselves in their quests.  Striving for beauty they grow ugly and twisted...  (And eventually that gets disclosed too.)