In the Norse poem Hávamál, a man is cautioned against gaining too much knowledge of the world. “For a wise man’s heart is seldom glad.”
The poet Byron tells us that “sorrow is knowledge - those that know the most mourn the deepest. The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.”
The book of Proverbs in the Christian Bible says that “in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.”
There is a danger in drinking deeply from the knowledge and poisons of this world. It can leave you cold, bitter, and certain that “the great truth is that there isn’t one.”
Seeing the world as it is, and not as we would prefer can crush many a man down into nothing, his back not strong enough for this burden of sorrow - truth like an overdose that snuffs out the simple joys and pleasures of life.
But there is another kind of man, as well.
One for whom the truth holds no great terror, and for whom sorrow, and all the hardship and poison of this world can be transmuted through the spiritual process into the nectar of wisdom.
he knows that the great truth of this world is in love, and mighty and furious acts of loyalty to this God called honor that lives at the center of his heart, and wraps his bones and dwells in his blood.
It is unmanly to be overcome by sorrows in a world that so desperately needs the strong and those capable of real love and loyalty.
Meaning - the self-made choice of that meaning, and the perpetual action toward it: this is the ship that sails over the crushing swells of this world’s sorrow and despair.
Man the oars.
Keep your head up, lads.
