I'm reading "The Brothers Karamazov," considered by many to be one of the all time great novels. It is a time-trip. Not difficult to read. I read in bed, it's a great way to segue into sleep. I curl up in bed, crack open the book and sink into the world of those "crazy Russians."
Crazy. Humans are so crazy. I should know, I'm one of them, just as crazy as the rest. Why are we so crazy? We learn fairly early in life that we will die. All of our family and friends will die too.
That's pretty crazy-making.
Then there is the relentless nature of existence. Suffering. Pain. Crushed dreams. A battle just to survive. How to feed ourselves, where to rest our heads, how to make our way in a hostile, uncaring world?
We imagine Gods, and Devils, and Judgement, and Apocalypse, we conjure other worlds and realities, and try to reconcile it all. More crazy-making stuff.
We deal with big words and concepts like Responsibility, Guilt, Sin, Morality. We look to Grace, Humility, Love. We battle with Indifference, Hate, Cruelty.
Oh yeah there's also Murder, Genocide, Suicide, Bullets, Guns, Bombs, Wars, Climate Catastrophe. It's all quite overwhelming.
We are essentially crazy, but not only crazy. We wear Masks: Rational, Reasonable , Pratical, Pragmatic, Optimistic. But we are all Emotional Hurricanes inside. There is a swirling madness in each one of us. As Adults, we are Corrupted, Damaged Children. Each and every one of us. Little Children living as best we can.
Crazy. Yes. No doubt. But not only crazy...