lights learnings

There is an old joke that goes …. when you see the light at the end of the tunnel, make sure it isn’t a train coming the other way!  Written by a pessimist comedian I assume.  But, it begs the question of whether I see a light drawing me toward the end of this time of transition, this liminal time.   The answer is yes, and it’s not a train coming the other way.   

The thing about lights at the distant end of tunnels is that they just appear as light … it’s only when you get closer to the end that the scenery beyond becomes clearer.  And what is true of our human optical response to dark and light is also true of our attempts to discern how the future will unfold. 

Now, if you are a person who seeks clarity and certainty, that glowing orb with no detail could be a source of frustration.  For me, it is a sign of hope. So, why the difference in perspective?  Perhaps it comes from having lived long enough to see that trying to find clarity where none is discernible only serves to frustrate the one looking, and doesn’t make clearer what is visible.   

In a way, it comes down to learning to be comfortable with mystery. Which describes our spiritual journey as well.  For some people, being comfortable with mystery and ambiguity comes easier than for others. I am in the latter camp, and it has taken decades for me to achieve a small but certain comfort with the vagaries of life, the enigma of the future, the mystery of God. 

All of which means that I can look at the light at the end of the tunnel and not fear that I can’t make out what is beyond. It means I am free to choose to see in the glow whatever I wish to see.

Which isn’t as absurd as it sounds – because in many ways, the future for me will be shaped by how I see me in the future.  And I choose to see me exiting this tunnel having experienced two things.  

The first is that I will have gained a much deeper appreciation for the little things in life.  Reading a story to my grandchildren. Watching my own children as they interact with their children.  Looking at clouds and sky and stars and trees. Trying to see in others what God sees in them. Laughing so hard, it hurts. And crying when my heart is moved.  All of these things that make us human.  That is my first learning from this experience. The second I will share tomorrow.

None of this is important however, except maybe to me.  What is important is what you see. How you see the light at the end of your tunnel.  What you imagine are the learnings and experiences you will be leaving this tunnel with.  Perhaps today you can find some time to ponder what you perceive in the light at the end of your tunnel.