On the morning of the day when he would be executed, Socrates woke from a good night's sleep; massaged his feet; slowly placed his feet on the ground; and then spoke for the day about a good life. And you know what, I get that. If I knew I was to die tomorrow at sunset, I'd want to wake up well-rested, clear-headed and with the aches and pains massaged out.
Buy my book On Mortality and the Human Imagination
Subscribe to a newsletter for occasional updates on the podcast, videos and other writing. https://www.zenglop.net/zenglop/zenglop-the-newsletter.html
And/or subscribe to youtube