No.130

If he exalts himself, I humble him.
And if he humbles himself, I exalt him.
And I go on contradicting him
Until he understands
That he is a monster that passes all understanding.
- Blaise Pascal, Pensees

The difficult that I have with relating life lessons to other people is that they invariably sound so trite. I hate it when life starts seeming like a cliche, or when it teaches you something that you should've learned watching a very special episode of The Facts of Life. That being said, cliches actually happen, which is in itself another horrible cliche.

Someone let me down. It was as abrupt as a car accident. One minute you're fine, the weather's nice, you're cruising down the street, some good music on the radio - then there's a moment of pain and confusion - and the next thing all you know is a colorful mixture of blood and wreckage. The only good thing about the entire accident is that it's over, and you have to adjust to your new circumstances pretty quickly.

This has been an interesting year for me. I won't say a good year, or a pleasant year - but an interesting one. Maybe not entirely fairly, I was leaning on this person. They recently withdrew their help, and while there's other people I can turn to, I'm just surprised that someone can change their mind about you so quickly, and just decide that you're not worth it. This may be all being done under the auspices of letting me learn to fend for myself, which, god knows, I can never learn enough. But I can't shake the feeling that there's something bloody presumptuous about leaving someone to drown and then trying to take credit for it when they force themselves to swim.

That's why I chose the above quote. Pascal, no stranger to drama, understood that in life there's always going to be some disaster, public or private, large or small, that will tear large chunks of flesh from your body. And there's never going to be a good way to react to it. Whatever you do, however you try to cope with it, you'll wind up looking ridiculous. There's no real way to handle it with dignity - you just stand there, blood all over your shirt, strangers pointing and staring, and hope that the wounds will scab over as quickly as possible.

I can't really say what the lesson here is. Don't trust anyone? People suck? Don't build houses on sand? Always look out for number one? I haven't really decided what I should take away from all this, and I'm not interested in turning this experience into some pat "growing experience" that I can walk away from and be a better person. The only thing I want is that it never happens again.

Bon Iver - The Wolves (Act I and II)