The new can only spring from the old for the simple fact that nature abhors a vacuum. Something must fill the space. If the new is to be, the old must die. As paradox always accompanies genuine truths, it is in the context of a morbid death that newness can be born. These emotions of fertile joy and bubbling enthusiasm must succeed from the sacrifice of old conditions, attitudes and behaviours. It is in the nature of these grips of life to nestle themselves in a man’s comfort zones so that letting go of the old often goes hand-in-hand with a sense of discomfort, anxiety and tension. So from a conscious death of the negative does a man yield the positive, yet no result is had without reckoning some degree of suffering. Men must pay for everything; for every inch that they seek to change or grow. And delusions often play their role, as a man imagines himself changing and growing, yet he never really does. Like a great boulder weathered down through time, he can so easily believe that erosion is a compliment to his own merits. Newness is real when a man has paid for it by dying to things in himself — by making room, space, for something to take their place.