dealing

Among the various activities I've been taking on to simultaneously numb myself and fill up the space, I finally got around to reading The Name of the Wind.* Actually, I guess I really only started a couple days ago, but as of last night I'm already 500 or so pages into it - so obviously, I highly recommend it to anyone looking for good fiction.

The following passage has stuck to my mind since. I started writing a long, reflective post about it, but it's coming out all wrong right now, so we'll have to make do with just the passage itself for now.

Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind's way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying 'time heals all wounds' is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told.

* Thanks to X for lending me the book almost a year ago and for persistently reminding me to read it, and to J for bringing it up recently so that I felt compelled to actually do so.