Decrease in Money

The lake gives up its mist to green the mountain: money spent down here waters something higher — a debt cleared, a reserve built, a habit of thrift that compounds. The image is the whole practice: curb the anger, restrain the appetites — the two great inflators of every overspend. Practicality belongs here squarely (the spirit of Sun): know your resources exactly and live within them, without grasping past your reach. Cut from the surplus, not the substance — the subscription, the vanity purchase, the lifestyle inflation — and bank what you surrender in a deeper account. Line 2 sets the boundary: you can give to others without decreasing yourself, but never trade away your principles or throw yourself into the transaction.

If outward decrease has already hit — income down, budget tight — take the Judgment's real comfort: sincerity makes the two small bowls sufficient. Poverty of means, met honestly, loses all its shame; there is no dishonour in the modest offering plainly made. Line 3 is the season's arithmetic for a crowded budget: when three travel, one departs. Subtract the surplus attachment — the third streaming service, the standing order you forgot, the inner crowd of competing wants — and what's essential gets room to breathe. And decrease your faults first (line 4): the honest review of the spending habits that keep you stuck does more than any new income stream promises.