I recently picked up a book by Karl Ove Knausgaard called "My Struggle." I started reading it, although once it started boring me I stopped, so unfortunately, I cannot recommend it, although some readers will undoubtedly find it to be magnificent. However, there were a couple lines in the beginning that really made me think.
Knausgaard says, "As your perspective of the world increases not only is the pain it inflicts on you less but also its meaning. Understanding the world requires you to take a certain distance from it."
Is this true? Can meaning and understanding be enemies of each other? Is this why sometimes it takes years after a relationship ends before you can really understand why everything happened the way it did? Is this why sometimes you don't realize how much you loved and depended on someone or something until after it is gone? Is this why the things we cherish the most are so often confusing and mysterious?
I don't know.
What do you think?