A Great "Betrayal"

I was recently perusing through Bertrand Russell's History of Philosophy, and I came across the chapter on Pythagoras. According to Russell, Pythagoras seemed to be somewhere between a rationalist and a kind of mystic.. While he is certainly best known as the originator of the formula for the hypoteneuse of a triangle, Pythagoras was also known for edicts such as "abstain from eating beans". What kind of a person would combine what appear to be mathematical thinking with superstitious views about plants and other things? But as  I continued to read the chapter, I also realized that Pythagoras was struggling against very common convictions and desires that people tend to have: that of mathematical certainty and that of mastery over the mysteries of life. I think in this sense, Pythagoras was fighting against some of the biggest betrayals of life: learning that life cannot be rendered into a more perfect realm of mathematical precision, any more than we can conclude with any certainty that beans are 'bad' for us.
   I can't think of any particular experiences where I had felt truly betrayed, but I am using 'betrayal' to describe two kinds of experiences. One is the experience of disillusionment, or revealing that things aren't what  they appear to be. This disillusionment is often what might lead people to become scientists, who insist on finding proof that things are real through repeated confirmation and experience.  The other is a more subtle experience: the betrayal a person feels when they realize that reality cannot be conquered by any theories or pat answers. This latter 'betrayal' seems to come after the betrayal of the senses, when people are initially disillusioned of appearances. After the quest to move away from a appearances, I would say a person tries to go the opposite direction: to find an order or a predictable way of knowing the difference between appearance and 'true reality'. But this belief  in  a 'true' reality is also met with betrayal, because anything we see and experience  is conditioned in some way.
   Where is one to go when they realize that there is neither 'truth' in the sensory appearances or the principles/philosophies we might construct to deal with those appearances?  Sometimes this impasse can lead to madness, but other times, it can lead to a very  different way of trying to understand what could be true. I would have to characterize it as a truth in letting go of grasping at truth: what happens when I see the world and am not taken by appearances , but am not afraid of those appearances either. This seems to be closer to a middle  way between reviling forms and craving them.