I indulge it with reckless abandon: a spoiled child easier to manage through indulgence rather than warring with restraint.
In this area, I prescribe the course in a way conveyed perfectly by Henri Matisse: "I overdo everything as a matter of course."
Sigh, my impetuosity.
And sigh again.
My heart leads me about on its golden chain, a drooling, sap-eyed hound; guileless and happy to be collared.