THE GALLERIA DELL'ACCADEMIA in Florence, Italy, houses four marble sculptures by Michelangelo. Known as the "Four Prisoners," the human figures are only partially chiseled. Their arms, legs, and torsos are emerging, but, as their name suggests, each form seems imprisoned, as if struggling to extricate itself from the mass of still-uncarved stone.
At times most of us probably want to emerge, to break free from the imperfections and limitations that hold us back, bog us down, and trip us up. We long to be more productive, perhaps, or to be a better spouse or parent, a better boss or employee. Or maybe we just want to express more genuine goodness of character.
Too often, though, we feel unable to change. A friend of mine once remarked that there was no way she could be patient with people; it simply wasn't possible for her. How sad to feel so enslaved. Yet many of us feel this way. The underlying reason is that we believe our human failings are a real part of us—that they're etched indelibly in the stone of our character. We have a bad temper because Uncle George had one. Or we've always been clumsy; it's not in our makeup to be careful. It seems to be a constant fight against heredity, disposition, character, psychological conditioning, and physical attributes.
