Until a man sees himself as he is, he is flying blind. He goes from one mess to another.
Eventually, he becomes embittered. Or, with the ‘help’ of drugs, sex, work or video games, he numbs out.
In extremis, he finds himself in an ache-scape, in the midst of a great loneliness.
Now, nothing that is, is without a divine aspect. Is this mess the one that reveals the man to himself?