Dorian Gray

At that moment, when the world around him melted away, when he stood alone like a star in the heavens, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of icy despair, but he was more firmly himself than ever. That was the last shudder of his awakening, the last pains of birth. Immediately he moved on again and began to walk, quickly and impatiently, no longer homewards, no longer to his father, no longer looking backwards. -- Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Over the last years, I have spent a lot of time with myself - getting to know myself better and understanding myself better. It was, at first, a matter of necessity after my father's death. It wasn't a particularly difficult time because he died, but what was difficult was coming to terms with the relationship he and I had. The ups and downs, the trials and tribulations of a tempestuous relationship dashed onto a pyre. One half of that relationship gone, there was not much left. I do not let many people close, and to that end my father was not close when he passed away - partly of his own choosing, partly of my own. It felt right at the time, and yet it still hurt. It still was right, but identifying that hurt required staring into the well. And that well, you see, is quite deep. Mortality is a troublesome thing, but it has its uses.