When the vow of consecration is finished, a man does not simply walk away from it. He brings the peace offering, the bread, the meat, the drink, and lays down the discipline he has kept. A season of sharpened attention closes, and the closing is itself an act, not a lapse into ordinary life.
Something in us wants the sacred as a single burst of feeling, then release. Order works otherwise. A discipline undertaken has to be finished with the same care it was begun, or it teaches nothing but that we quit when the intensity fades. Completing what you swore to complete is how the vow becomes part of who you are.