There is no respect for difference without a respect for difficulty.

We can find ourselves suddenly strange to ourselves as we wake from spells we had no suspicion held us in their thrall. We can live for decades within the frame of illusions others imposed on us. When we wake, those who thought they knew us may find us strange, too. They may think us not quite ourselves, when in fact we are more ourselves than we have ever been, but new and clumsy, since we have been so long at such a remove from ourselves. Yet, with the waking comes a feeling of freshness and awe, mingled with deep regret for lost time. How awkward it is to try to understand what that was authentic of ourselves was served by our acquiescence, our availability for thralldom. These matters are rarely spoken of because they are so delicate and embarrassing.

Our most sublime values, justice, mercy, devotion, depend on a solid foundation of disappointment to support them. Without the personal experience of disappointment both in ourselves and in the world around us we have no way of knowing what a difference values like justice, mercy and devotion can make.