The Ochlophobist is doing a series of short posts (apparently) every day of the Dormition Fast. I highly suggest reading each and every one of them. One of them that caught my eye was this one. My thoughts on the title of this post spring from that post. So read that (it's not long) and you'll get where I'm coming from.
My REAL first car (as opposed to the ACTUAL first one which I totaled a month after turning sixteen) was a 1987 Toyota Tercel, the motor in which, in fine Toyota fashion, served me impeccably through 2003, when I bought a truck. The a/c in the Tercel worked for (maybe!) a month after I bought it. Never did work afterwards. Survived brutal OK and TX summers by rolling down the window and speeding.
Today after liturgy I saw the grass needs cutting. My first thought to myself was this: Oh, but it's hot in the middle of the day. My second thought: Yes, and my great-grandfather did so much more than this in this same TX heat; bring on this little bit of heritage. Sadly, 'twas not my own laziness but rather the demands of parenting young children (the dance of naptime, post-liturgy lunches, etc) that prevented this. Perhaps sometime soon I can indulge myself in a little hardship...
I've long though that we're actually doing ourselves a disservice with all of our medical "advances," if you can call it that. Were this several hundred years ago, I would probably have been killed in battle or marginalized in society due to my poor eyesight. Now I can go to my choice of optometrist and see just fine, thank you...fine enough to pass my corrupted genes on to (may God forbid this) my two daughters. There's a fine line between despising our addiction to ease (which, while making us less susceptible to natural selection, also renders us incapable of coping should said "Man vs. Nature" scenario actually arise) and foolishly discarding advances that spare us loss of life through easily-preventable means. That line is hard to walk spiritually, as well: maintaining a healthy asceticism--touching discomfort enough to remember it always ought to be there--while being neither self-abusive or overly-indulgent.
Lord, have mercy.