What if the deepest wound inside you is not that you are broken, but that some part of you remembers where you came from? The Katha Upanishad tells the story of Nachiketa, a boy who stands before Yama, the god of death, and refuses every pleasure offered to him in exchange for abandoning his question. He wants to know what remains when the body is gone.

Somebody who loves you will eventually tell you something you don't want to hear. A business partner points out the hole in the plan you've been avoiding. A friend says the relationship you keep defending sounds exhausting to be around. An editor circles the paragraph you were proudest of and writes one word: cut. None of these people are trying to hurt you. They are doing the harder, less rewarding work of telling you the truth instead of the compliment you were fishing for.