Something Worth Losing For
The Right Kind of Pain
“What is to give light must endure burning.”
— Viktor Frankl
How do you know if you’re making the right choice, be that about the direction of your life or a specific person you want in it? People are a risk. The closer they get to you the riskier they are. They’re more capable of doing serious damage there, like saboteurs behind the castle walls.
Some people love to win. Their minds are wired to optimise and maximise. They want the eternal right to wriggle out of binds or have enough contingencies concealed should the worst case unfold. It’s also a hatred of losing. As a lifelong chess lover I don’t like being outplayed, so I get it.
But, sometimes, there are things and people worth losing for. In such cases, there is more grace in leaning into something you know will burn you or break your heart. In a sense, I’m arguing in favour of foolishness — sometimes.
Some people know all the right moves to make to pragmatically succeed. Nothing wrong with that. It's desirable in fact. But, it can be a cold existence too. Not always. Not the majority of the time even. But it will catch you in quiet moments. Small things like coming home and the lights aren't on and there's no buzz of energy or comforting presence waiting.
There is danger in being too self-aware. Too cognisant about how everything can play out. Too adept at getting what you want — your pleasures. Life is rarely a question of avoiding pain though, it's about what kind of pain you choose. Choose with that in mind.
You know you’re making the right decision when it feels like the right kind of pain.
I don't tell people I am dying.
They look at you with pity..
I hate that.
Really hate it. Even with my insights of this chess game. I avoid unnecessary pain. I still find all pain difficult. But being pitied is the worst. I would rather be disliked..
So sometimes I will just test. Myself others I know or a stranger. It's interesting how it plays out. Even if it's pure rejection.
This concept used to confuse me, and I thought I was a masochist. I mean I am a masochist, but now I see the difference between beneficial suffering and useless piling on. Learning to suffer well when you're a masochist is like learning to eat when you're anorexic.