head. A woman reaches her fulfillment through love, deep
sensual love, and exquisite sensitive communion. But once she reaches
the point of fulfillment, she should not break off to ask for more
excitements. She should take the beauty of maturity and peace and
quiet faithfulness upon her.

This she won't do, however, unless the man, her husband, goes on
beyond her. When a man approaches the beginning of maturity and the
fulfillment of his individual self, about the age of thirty-five, then
is not his time to come to rest. On the contrary. Deeply fulfilled
through marriage, and at one with his own soul, he must now undertake
the responsibility for the next step into the future. He must now give
himself perfectly to some further purpose, some passionate purposive
activity. Till a man makes the great resolution of aloneness and
singleness of being, till he takes upon himself the silence and
central appeasedness of maturity; and _then, after this_, assumes a
sacred responsibility for the next purposive step into the future,
there is no rest. The great resolution of aloneness and appeasedness,
and the further deep assumption of responsibility in purpose--this is
necessary to every parent, every father, every husband, at a certain
point. If the resolution is never made, the responsibility never
embraced, then the love-craving will run on into frenzy, and lay waste
to the family. In the woman particularly the love-craving will run on
to frenzy and disaster.

Seeking, seeking the fulfillment in the deep passional self; diseased
with self-consciousness and sex in the head, foiled by the very loving
weakness of the husband who has not the courage to withdraw into his
own stillness and singleness, and put the wife under the spell of his
fulfilled decision; the unhappy woman beats about for her insatiable
satisfaction, seeking whom she may devour. And usually, she turns to
her child. Here she provokes what she wants. Here, in her own son who
belongs to her, she seems to find the last perfect response for which
she is craving. He is a medium to her, she provokes from him her own
answer. So she throws herself into a last great love for her son, a
final and fatal devotion, that which would have been the richness and
strength of her husband and is poison to her boy. The husband,
irresolute, never accepting his own higher responsibility, bows and
accepts. And the fatal round of introversion and "complex" starts once
more. If man will