Light at the End of the Tunnel
Raising two babies is a lot of work; every day feels like a high-stakes production balancing on a razor’s edge. Everything needs to go perfectly for everyone to get where they need to go, when they need to be there. It’s always nice talking to other parents who have gone through similar experiences for both advice and also the evidence that it can be done and you can still come out a healthy, sane individual afterwards.
One consistent thing that other parents always tell us is that we are “in it” right now, but that it eventually gets better. When? Usually around when the younger one is four. Ooof. Ok. That’s three years from now. Three years doesn’t sound too bad. But it’s not great. One year would be nice. Six months would be even better. Tomorrow would be ideal. But, if it’s three years, then it’s three years. We’ll just grit our teeth through 2028, and it’ll be smooth sailing thereafter. Right? RIGHT???
That’s one way to look at life, viewing the challenges that life throws at you are something to “get through”, believing there is some magical problem-free world awaiting you on the other side of this, a light at the end of this tunnel. But deep down, we all know that is an illusion. One of the core tenets of Buddhism is that “life is suffering”. There will always be some type of challenge in our lives; overcoming them is what gives life meaning. Walter Cronkite once said, “There is no light at the end of the tunnel. We are the light.”
Still, I find myself frequently guilty of this line of thinking. I was genuinely excited to start a new job last year, my first in over a decade. With a fresh start, I was expecting sudden professional fulfillment that had eluded me in my past career. But of course, reality has been a mixed bag. Some parts have been great, others not so much. Old problems were replaced by entirely new ones. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. It’s just a different shade.
In three years, the kids will be out of diapers, sleeping better, and more independent to be able to take care of themselves. That sounds like pure bliss from where we are now. But who knows what new problems will arise? Eventually, they’ll do everything for themselves. Eventually, they’ll have their own lives and friends. Eventually, they’ll be teenagers and I, of all people, am not ready for the drama that a teenage Serena will surely bring (thankfully, a problem for another decade). There will come a day when I look back fondly at this time and wish they were this age again, because this is the only time they will ever be this age. That moment might be a long time coming, but when it does, we’ll ask ourselves – where did all that time go?
When we were in Houston for Serena’s birthday last month, we spent a morning walking through the Rice campus. Despite being well over a decade since I last strolled through those hedges, there was an ever-present feeling of familiarity as I walked past the dorms and academic buildings. Nostalgia is one of the strongest emotions, and it stirred up a bunch of fond memories of my time there – running to an 8 am accounting class to avoid being publicly shamed by the professor, cramming for finals at Fondren, mixing jungle juice in our dorms. Looking back, when I was attending college, I rarely took a moment to sit back and soak it all in. To appreciate that these are the only four years you’ll ever have living with your best friends without any real responsibilities.
College was only a stepping stone to the next thing, something to get through instead of truly experiencing. There’s a huge difference. Maybe that perspective can only come with time. And there’s been a lot of time. Julian is closer in age than I am now to when I first entered Rice than I am now. In maturity and temperament, probably much closer. I’m a different person than I was when I lived on that campus. But in some ways still the same, some days still trying to get through the next three years for the “better” life ahead.
I try not to be in such a rush anymore. I try to take every day as it comes, the good days and the bad days, and to live in the moment as much as I can. Life isn’t what happened in the past, and it isn’t what’s waiting for you in five years. Life is what you experience every day. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel. This is the light.