Even if we wished to flee from sorrow, sorrow is ever present in human life despite every effort of the civilization and despite modern breakthroughs for a more bearable living.
A man may possess all, enjoy all goods of life and a perfect health, and travel from on point to another on the Earth; however, at certain time of the day, an importune visitor will come to him: it is sorrow of human tedium; tiredness of fleeting hours; a vague sensation of something lost for ever; a hidden sense of an unknown evil that may happen at any moment.
The variability of the Universe is source of continuous changes, and man, that by his inner nature tends to be static at the point where he is, bitterly suffers because of these repeated changes.
We can dispose of many things, but who can dispose of his own past? Moreover, who can dispose of the congenital memory of his past experiences through lives and deaths?
Not to have always the same orientation in life, in short, the uncertainty about the future is a continuous suffering for the soul. Seemingly today the soul is in the hand of a happy conqueror; tomorrow, this dream-like king falls headlong and gets discouraged.
Sacrifices so far described are inner sacrifices and belong to the soul; many times they are unnoticed because they happen hidden from the eyes of men, in the innermost of the individual being; but there are Sacrifices that, although not so subtle, are not less strong despite their material nature.
A spiritual can do or try anything to harmonize worldly life and spiritual life, but is ever unable to flee from gossip and censure.
How cannot a lamp be seen on the mount summit?
However the individual rises over human things, he is unable to get entirely rid of them, and many times the struggle for life and for earning a living, apparently hinders the progress.
The more you progress and the more you widen the individual consciousness, the lesser gross are sensitivities, although they become more subtle and wider.
Personally you can understand the reason of pains and sufferings in Mankind; but the collective sorrow intensely attains the Wheel of the Heart, and fills it with the pink color of compassion.