This is a wonderfully written story. Your writing is a genuine gift to us, your readers, and I’m grateful for it. As I was reading, I kept picturing the different scenes, or reconstructing memories of my own that somehow resembled them. And, more generally, I found myself remembering what it feels like to be in a mountain hut more than 2,000 metres above sea level, with no electricity, and yet having an absolutely wonderful time.
And the big question of whether it is possible to reject someone in a way that doesn’t hurt really is a big one. I don’t think it can be reduced simply to finding the right words that will make rejection less painful. There is another side to it as well: if it didn’t hurt very much, were the emotions real? Were they strong enough? And could rejection itself, in some strange way, sometimes turn out to be a gift or even a blessing? Difficult questions.
In general, I like trying to shed some light on things that are harder to notice, and it seems to me there is an opportunity to do that here too. What I mean is that making rejection less painful also involves the person being rejected. We need a certain maturity and an ability to prepare ourselves, to find the strength within ourselves to overcome the pain and perhaps even turn it into a source of energy, rather than surrendering to the strange comfort of seeing ourselves as victims.
We also need to learn to judge when a relationship genuinely has a chance - which is incredibly difficult and can create the opposite problem, of course: never beginning relationships that might actually have worked - and when to follow, or restrain, the impulses of the heart. We cannot rely entirely on the other person somehow finding the perfect formula for rejecting us in a way that will hurt less than it otherwise would.
There is a book by the French philosopher Michel Foucault called The Courage of Truth - actually the book is based on the final course of lectures he gave at the Collège de France. Among other things, it teaches us that courage is required both to speak the truth and to bear the truth when we hear it. And it seems to me that these are qualities that can help us in far more than one area of life: to tell the truth, and to learn how to live with hearing it.
And one more thing: I think you are being too hard on yourself. I would probably feel exactly the same way in your place, but I also think - and believe - that it is precisely these mistakes, doubts, and difficult questions that give us the opportunity to work on ourselves and become better people.
And if that is true, then perhaps there is a small paradox here: in order to become kinder, more compassionate, more understanding people, we may first have to travel some distance in the opposite direction.
Oh... Baltieu, where to start? This is such a philosophical answer and I had to give it some thought before replying.
First of all, thank you for reading. I really appreciate it when people share their perspectives... after all, that is why my blog is called Tabl-talk, even though there isn't actually a real table here. I am also happy to meet a fellow mountaineer who understands the magic that happens in mountain huts by candlelight.
This sentence took me by surprise, to be honest: “I like trying to shed some light on things that are harder to notice, and it seems to me there is an opportunity to do that here too. What I mean is that making rejection less painful also involves the person being rejected.” Because we usually forget that rejection is not a one-person show... there is always another person involved, and it is very difficult to predict what their reaction will be. That can make all the difference to the entire situation. But at the end of the day, despite all our rational thinking, we are human beings built with emotions. And however much we try to square the circle, a rejected person will always bleed...
Pleasure talking to you, and thank you for such a stimulating discussion.
This was an amazing read, Lilia. I was right there with "the mountain guide" (such effective use of the third person perspective imo), and the life in our twenties you conjured—rejecting and being rejected, and remembering how it all felt (omg).
Thank you very much. I think the third person perspective came as a surprise to me, but felt it worked best. It help me to take some distance from my younger-self and look at the situation "unbiased" as much as possible. And yes, I have experienced some of the most enriching and amusing time of my life in the mountains. Lessons for life.
Thank you. I don't know if it is thoughtful, but it is honest ;-)
I think the act of rejection should be done in a kind manner. And yes, everyone deserves a kind and respectful rejection....But the rejection itself is always painful.
I've accepted by now that I'm simply incapable of writing short comments, so here's what I think of this lovely piece. Such an interesting story, such philosophical questions... and the phrase that got stuck in my head was "Apologise to the tourists about the state of the toilets." Just the other day, walking past Sofia University's Rectorate building with my boss, and mentor, we ended up talking about exactly that - toilets in Bulgaria. Even inside such an important institution, their state is appalling - I'll leave aside my own experiences as a student, but the shame I've felt when there were international guests around... And it's not just that - as my boss put it, there's still a hierarchy in access to toilets here too: a separate, locked one reserved for administration or faculty, while the rest of us wait in line, no hygiene supplies, complete squalor. A social phenomenon that deserves its own study.
You probably remember the scandal a few years back over a piece by the artist David Černý - he'd depicted Bulgaria as a squat toilet. I don't think I've ever seen this nation quite that offended (the truth hurts, even when you pretend it isn't true). But offended at the people who present this state of affairs as normal by doing nothing to change it, or at ourselves for accepting it - never. In a way, I think what I've just written is itself an example of that rejection - of ourselves - and that can never be painless. Acceptance isn't either - but at least it holds some kind of perspective. The other path leads, at best, to stagnation, if not outright regression. Which, honestly, I think is the actual state of our society.
Thank you Mila! And I absolutely love long comments :-), I tend to write long comments myself. There some really good and witty Bulgarian authors here, and if you haven’t checked @Yoan Zapryanov, please do. He had this really witty, social commentaries, about the “hot potatoes” in our everyday lives.
In my comment on his essay, I also referred to the collective offense we (myself included) “suffered” while the exhibition of David Černý was revealed…but then..we just carry on
Thank you, Lilia, for the recommendation — I think I’ve heard of him, I’ll keep an eye out. Either way, you can tell he’s younger — otherwise he wouldn’t have been so shaken, I think. Though, in theory, squat toilets are considered by some to actually be more hygienic — Turkey specifically being a good example, except there you’ll usually find the means to wash up afterward too; it’s not a coincidence that these toilets are also called “Turkish,” which surely added its own layer to our collective offense. It’s a cultural question, and I think that’s exactly the problem — our distaste for this particular piece of cultural heritage, set against its continued survival. But I’ll stop here and let your lovely story “breathe,” so to speak 🤭
Your question about whether rejection can ever really be kind will stay with me. I think even when we try to handle it kindly, there usually isn’t a way to make it completely painless. I also appreciate how candid you were about looking back on your own behavior with more life experience under your belt. Thank you for sharing such a personal story.
Thank you for reading. My point exactly... Even if the act of rejection is tender and honest, it still hurts. I tend to agree with both Baltieu and Goraka that the way rejection is perceived depends very much on how strong the feelings are... and that sometimes people reject the other person first, before that person can reject them...it probably hurts but also avoids humiliation..
That is all very fascinating, I have never been in a mountain hut like that, but all of sudden want to be. And those mountains.....I wonder, with the knowledge you have know, would you do this again. I mean being a mountain guide, not the thing about the guy?
As for the rejection, I think that people simply don't like being rejected. That is why people prefer to be the first calling the relation off, if they believe that the partner is thinking of reject them...I hope this sounds reasonable ;-)
Thank you, thank you... and yes, get to a mountain hut. It is a wonderful experience.
This is a very tricky question... I was discussing with my husband the other day that I was naively courageous to take up mountain guiding at a time when there were no mobile phones, when I carried cash around my waist, and when I had to navigate through all kinds of foreseeable and unforeseeable situations. One would say that, with the knowledge I have now, I would be better equipped to do it. But unfortunately, at the age of 57, although I am mentally equipped, physically i am not... But that is the hurdle of life.
So, my honest answer is: I am glad that at the age of 25 I didn't have the knowledge I have now, and I am happy that I took the chance. The mountains are wonderful teachers.
As for the rejections... I agree with you, but looking at the other comments, I am sure it is not going to be an easy debate...Take care!
This is a wonderfully written story. Your writing is a genuine gift to us, your readers, and I’m grateful for it. As I was reading, I kept picturing the different scenes, or reconstructing memories of my own that somehow resembled them. And, more generally, I found myself remembering what it feels like to be in a mountain hut more than 2,000 metres above sea level, with no electricity, and yet having an absolutely wonderful time.
And the big question of whether it is possible to reject someone in a way that doesn’t hurt really is a big one. I don’t think it can be reduced simply to finding the right words that will make rejection less painful. There is another side to it as well: if it didn’t hurt very much, were the emotions real? Were they strong enough? And could rejection itself, in some strange way, sometimes turn out to be a gift or even a blessing? Difficult questions.
In general, I like trying to shed some light on things that are harder to notice, and it seems to me there is an opportunity to do that here too. What I mean is that making rejection less painful also involves the person being rejected. We need a certain maturity and an ability to prepare ourselves, to find the strength within ourselves to overcome the pain and perhaps even turn it into a source of energy, rather than surrendering to the strange comfort of seeing ourselves as victims.
We also need to learn to judge when a relationship genuinely has a chance - which is incredibly difficult and can create the opposite problem, of course: never beginning relationships that might actually have worked - and when to follow, or restrain, the impulses of the heart. We cannot rely entirely on the other person somehow finding the perfect formula for rejecting us in a way that will hurt less than it otherwise would.
There is a book by the French philosopher Michel Foucault called The Courage of Truth - actually the book is based on the final course of lectures he gave at the Collège de France. Among other things, it teaches us that courage is required both to speak the truth and to bear the truth when we hear it. And it seems to me that these are qualities that can help us in far more than one area of life: to tell the truth, and to learn how to live with hearing it.
And one more thing: I think you are being too hard on yourself. I would probably feel exactly the same way in your place, but I also think - and believe - that it is precisely these mistakes, doubts, and difficult questions that give us the opportunity to work on ourselves and become better people.
And if that is true, then perhaps there is a small paradox here: in order to become kinder, more compassionate, more understanding people, we may first have to travel some distance in the opposite direction.
Oh... Baltieu, where to start? This is such a philosophical answer and I had to give it some thought before replying.
First of all, thank you for reading. I really appreciate it when people share their perspectives... after all, that is why my blog is called Tabl-talk, even though there isn't actually a real table here. I am also happy to meet a fellow mountaineer who understands the magic that happens in mountain huts by candlelight.
This sentence took me by surprise, to be honest: “I like trying to shed some light on things that are harder to notice, and it seems to me there is an opportunity to do that here too. What I mean is that making rejection less painful also involves the person being rejected.” Because we usually forget that rejection is not a one-person show... there is always another person involved, and it is very difficult to predict what their reaction will be. That can make all the difference to the entire situation. But at the end of the day, despite all our rational thinking, we are human beings built with emotions. And however much we try to square the circle, a rejected person will always bleed...
Pleasure talking to you, and thank you for such a stimulating discussion.
This was an amazing read, Lilia. I was right there with "the mountain guide" (such effective use of the third person perspective imo), and the life in our twenties you conjured—rejecting and being rejected, and remembering how it all felt (omg).
Thank you very much. I think the third person perspective came as a surprise to me, but felt it worked best. It help me to take some distance from my younger-self and look at the situation "unbiased" as much as possible. And yes, I have experienced some of the most enriching and amusing time of my life in the mountains. Lessons for life.
Thoughtful writing.
Yes rejecting someone can definitely be kind. Because you have to do what is truthful and authentic.
Thank you. I don't know if it is thoughtful, but it is honest ;-)
I think the act of rejection should be done in a kind manner. And yes, everyone deserves a kind and respectful rejection....But the rejection itself is always painful.
I've accepted by now that I'm simply incapable of writing short comments, so here's what I think of this lovely piece. Such an interesting story, such philosophical questions... and the phrase that got stuck in my head was "Apologise to the tourists about the state of the toilets." Just the other day, walking past Sofia University's Rectorate building with my boss, and mentor, we ended up talking about exactly that - toilets in Bulgaria. Even inside such an important institution, their state is appalling - I'll leave aside my own experiences as a student, but the shame I've felt when there were international guests around... And it's not just that - as my boss put it, there's still a hierarchy in access to toilets here too: a separate, locked one reserved for administration or faculty, while the rest of us wait in line, no hygiene supplies, complete squalor. A social phenomenon that deserves its own study.
You probably remember the scandal a few years back over a piece by the artist David Černý - he'd depicted Bulgaria as a squat toilet. I don't think I've ever seen this nation quite that offended (the truth hurts, even when you pretend it isn't true). But offended at the people who present this state of affairs as normal by doing nothing to change it, or at ourselves for accepting it - never. In a way, I think what I've just written is itself an example of that rejection - of ourselves - and that can never be painless. Acceptance isn't either - but at least it holds some kind of perspective. The other path leads, at best, to stagnation, if not outright regression. Which, honestly, I think is the actual state of our society.
Anyway... Thank you again for this story!
Thank you Mila! And I absolutely love long comments :-), I tend to write long comments myself. There some really good and witty Bulgarian authors here, and if you haven’t checked @Yoan Zapryanov, please do. He had this really witty, social commentaries, about the “hot potatoes” in our everyday lives.
In my comment on his essay, I also referred to the collective offense we (myself included) “suffered” while the exhibition of David Černý was revealed…but then..we just carry on
https://zapryanov.substack.com/p/e03
Thank you, Lilia, for the recommendation — I think I’ve heard of him, I’ll keep an eye out. Either way, you can tell he’s younger — otherwise he wouldn’t have been so shaken, I think. Though, in theory, squat toilets are considered by some to actually be more hygienic — Turkey specifically being a good example, except there you’ll usually find the means to wash up afterward too; it’s not a coincidence that these toilets are also called “Turkish,” which surely added its own layer to our collective offense. It’s a cultural question, and I think that’s exactly the problem — our distaste for this particular piece of cultural heritage, set against its continued survival. But I’ll stop here and let your lovely story “breathe,” so to speak 🤭
Your question about whether rejection can ever really be kind will stay with me. I think even when we try to handle it kindly, there usually isn’t a way to make it completely painless. I also appreciate how candid you were about looking back on your own behavior with more life experience under your belt. Thank you for sharing such a personal story.
Thank you for reading. My point exactly... Even if the act of rejection is tender and honest, it still hurts. I tend to agree with both Baltieu and Goraka that the way rejection is perceived depends very much on how strong the feelings are... and that sometimes people reject the other person first, before that person can reject them...it probably hurts but also avoids humiliation..
Ah... love and rejection are complicated.
That is all very fascinating, I have never been in a mountain hut like that, but all of sudden want to be. And those mountains.....I wonder, with the knowledge you have know, would you do this again. I mean being a mountain guide, not the thing about the guy?
As for the rejection, I think that people simply don't like being rejected. That is why people prefer to be the first calling the relation off, if they believe that the partner is thinking of reject them...I hope this sounds reasonable ;-)
Thank you, thank you... and yes, get to a mountain hut. It is a wonderful experience.
This is a very tricky question... I was discussing with my husband the other day that I was naively courageous to take up mountain guiding at a time when there were no mobile phones, when I carried cash around my waist, and when I had to navigate through all kinds of foreseeable and unforeseeable situations. One would say that, with the knowledge I have now, I would be better equipped to do it. But unfortunately, at the age of 57, although I am mentally equipped, physically i am not... But that is the hurdle of life.
So, my honest answer is: I am glad that at the age of 25 I didn't have the knowledge I have now, and I am happy that I took the chance. The mountains are wonderful teachers.
As for the rejections... I agree with you, but looking at the other comments, I am sure it is not going to be an easy debate...Take care!