The true bite here lies in Eliot's refusal to separate desire from effort—she's not merely saying work precedes reward, but that *the form of our work must match our actual goal*. We cannot wish ourselves into abundance; we must understand the causal chain deeply enough to know that roses require the infrastructure of trees, the patient ecosystem, the unglamorous groundwork. Someone might work frantically at the wrong task, like a parent desperately teaching a child facts while never building the emotional safety they actually need, only to wonder why effort brings no flourishing. Eliot demands we think backwards from what we want, tracing it to its real sources rather than indulging in fantasy effort.