"That was the ambiance of my day, and most days, when the Swedish
team came into the bar, but there's another incident that…"
"How did Brian slant his story to avoid the wrath of the Little
General?" Bonnie interrupted me.
"I pretty much accused him of implying that the family had
committed suicide," I said, peevishly, "but it didn't matter; Toronto telexed
that evening, =Contents too graphic to air.‘"
"How did you feel about that?"
"I was pissed. Really pissed."
Bonnie drew a deep breath, exhaled, and said, "We view our
experiences so as to support assumptions that are inextricably tied to our
sense of self- worth and safety. When events undermine either of these, the
validity of our very existence seems threatened and we do one of two
things. We choose to assess the experience for the knowledge it contains,
and adjust our view of the world and our place in it accordingly, or we
adjust our view of the event to suit our assumptions, thereby becoming
more enslaved to our convictions. In the first case, we are constructing a
more insightful, less threatening view, because our fear of apparently
random events diminishes in proportion to the scope of our new
understanding. In the latter scenario, we are reconstructing our visions
according to the ever-narrowing parameters of increased fear."
I nodded that I understood her; I saw the world in narrow terms.
"Initially," she carried on, "these new parameters give us back some
of our sense of security—better the devil we know. But the mental
gymnastics required to contrive a safe place become so great that we
eventually glimpse our own insanity, and redouble our fear. " She raised
her eyebrows.
"So?" I said, stupidly.
"That day caused you to question the very existence of mankind's
moral core. Without that, you assess every event and everyone through a
filter of danger."
"Everything in Salvador was dangerous."
"This brings us to the problem you had when the focal point of your
existence became a salvage operation of your assumptions."
"Lucky me."
"For the next five years, you reconstructed your views while
drenched in fear, and surrounded by malice and madness. The only way
you could regain your assumed safe place in the world was to become a
part of that world." She tapped the log. "You got what you focused on.
Your dangerous desires should tell you this."
"Working combat assignments?"
