Imagine the spirit as a mansion. You'll guess we don't use many rooms. Apart from a few moments in childhood we don't dance around it in sunlight. But there's a traffic of things in and out, and what happens is that unwanted bulks can gather inside. Gather and gather, menacing us. Unable to shift them, we hide in ever-smaller spaces. And in our last hole, life offers a choice: to play out our demise in parallel theatres - psychosis, zealotry, religion, cancer, addiction - or to bow quietly out. But beware: life doesn't ask these high questions when we're confident and fresh - it waits for hopelessness.
The passage describes the spirit metaphorically as a mansion with many rooms, yet most remain unused, particularly as we grow older. Aside from fleeting joyful moments in childhood, we often neglect this inner space, leading to an accumulation of unwanted burdens. As these burdens pile up, they constrict our existence, forcing us into smaller emotional spaces where we feel trapped and overwhelmed.
