Life goes on for Kaag, of course, and the threat of complacency looms: “Syllabi were dutifully written. Conferences were studiously organized. Bathrooms were meticulously cleaned.” But Kaag resists—not by fasting or hiking mountains in inadequate footwear but by recalling as often as possible, in the intervals between deadening and dulling, that “things must suffer, go dark, perish before they live again. This is not an escape or respite from life but rather its realization.” Kaag may have outgrown his youthful dramatics, but he continues to let philosophy upend him. It once took him all the way to the edge of an Alpine precipice, to the brink of starvation. It went on to undo one marriage and inspire another. And it continues to heal us, not by making us feel better, but by making us well.