Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot

"Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot bear rather than to rest content with the fictions we manufacture out of each other." These words of Lawrence Durrell stir the soul with a profound recognition of the human condition—our ceaseless longing for truth, and yet, our deep fear of it. For we are creatures of contradictions, eternally torn between the desire to see the world as it truly is and the temptation to cling to the comforting fictions we create, the stories we tell ourselves and each other to shield us from the harshness of reality. Durrell's wisdom speaks to this internal struggle, reminding us that truth is not always a balm, but sometimes a bitter draught that can unsettle even the most resilient among us.

Consider the ancient stories of Greek tragedy, where the hero, despite all their valor and strength, is often undone by the very truth they seek. Oedipus, the noble king, spent his life unknowingly fulfilling the very prophecy he sought to avoid. When the truth of his origins was finally revealed to him, it shattered him beyond repair. The truth, which he had longed to understand, was the very force that destroyed him. In this tragedy, we see the message that Durrell imparts—that sometimes the pursuit of truth can be a curse, a force so potent that it leaves nothing in its wake but ruin and despair.

There is a sickness in this desire for truth, as Durrell notes, a sickness that blinds us to the possibility that peace may lie not in unmasking every hidden reality, but in accepting the stories we weave together. Fictions are the stories that give shape to our world, that make sense of the chaos around us. Like the mythologies of old, which sought to explain the stars, the winds, and the gods, our fictions give us meaning. Without them, we would be lost in a sea of confusion, drowning in the complexities of a world that cannot always be understood. There is a power in these fictions, for they help us navigate the world without succumbing to the harshness of its truths.

Consider the life of the great philosopher Socrates, who devoted himself to the search for truth. Socrates’ life was marked by his relentless pursuit of knowledge, questioning everything, seeking deeper and deeper answers. Yet, his commitment to the truth eventually led him to his downfall. The truth he uncovered about the nature of the gods, the political system, and the ideals of his time made him a target of those who sought to preserve the status quo. Socrates could not rest content in the comfortable fictions of society; he sought the unyielding, often inconvenient truth. And in the end, that truth brought him nothing but death. His story serves as a stark reminder that the pursuit of absolute truth can sometimes cost us everything—our lives, our peace, our very sense of self.

But in this paradox lies the lesson Durrell offers us: truth, when uncovered, is not always the cure we imagine it to be. Sometimes, we are better off resting in the stories we tell ourselves, in the fictions we create to protect our hearts. This is not to say that truth should be avoided, for there is a time for the unveiling of what lies hidden. Yet, we must recognize that some truths are like poison to the soul, too potent for us to bear. Perhaps the wiser course, in some instances, is to seek a balance—understanding the truth when it is necessary, but also acknowledging that there is comfort in the stories we build around us.

The lesson is clear: the world is filled with truths that we may not be ready to accept, and these truths can wound us in ways we are not prepared for. Therefore, we must tread carefully in our pursuit of knowledge, aware of the consequences that come with unmasking the world. In our daily lives, we should ask ourselves whether the pursuit of truth is worth the pain it might bring, or whether the comfort of our personal fictions might be the better path. There is wisdom in knowing when to question and when to accept, when to seek and when to let go.

Let us not, however, abandon the search for truth altogether. We must strive to find a middle ground, for to live in ignorance is a kind of sickness in itself. Yet, let us also be wise enough to know that not all truths are meant to be uncovered at once. The ancient tales of wisdom remind us that sometimes the greatest strength lies not in our ability to see everything, but in our ability to endure the fictions we craft and find peace in the stories that bind us together. May we approach truth with caution, reverence, and humility, recognizing that it is not always the end of the journey, but the beginning of a new and sometimes painful chapter.