Sometimes, things cannot be explained.
No matter how hard you try to figure something out, the pieces don’t add up to what’s expected. This can be a cause for vindication, as in the local case of a Bethesda, MD, Lululemon employee who appeared to have been attacked along with a fellow employee and killed within the store: what happened instead was that the employee who was not killed appears to have been the perpetrator of the crime, faking her own attack to get away with, um, murder (sorry).
The clues did not add up– inexplicable. But someone was able to fit the lack of connection like the pieces of a macabre puzzle; and it seems that although a poor innocent died a sad and unnecessary death, beaten to death, that at least the person who committed the crime will get her just desserts. It’s not a consolation by any means, but it’s a little bit of justice for aching, grieving souls. (Click on the link to read the story)
Being face to face with the irrational is unsettling: it makes you wonder if it is you who is crazy or irrational. It makes you judge and doubt yourself to the core of your being, and it makes you nauseated and disoriented.
But it’s also like a reset button: an encounter with the irrational makes you rethink your priorities; adjust your mindset; and sometimes discard those pieces of evidence or fact that are either incorrect, outdated, or no longer serve or help you.
Like the shoes in the picture, sometimes the irrational is just that: a couple or so of things that once were useful but no longer belong together, or with you, and which now can be shed and forgotten about.
UPDATE: I love this story on TBD.com about the Lululemon murder. No, none of us saw it coming, although we all wish we could have, somehow. But when one person seems to have insight into the pieces that don’t quite fit, people are quick to dismiss it. That is the net effect of the irrational: it makes everyone think you’re the one who’s nuts.