When There’s No Light at the End of the Tunnel
It was one of those interesting days. I spent some time with someone I’ve known for over ten years. We’re the same age, and it was a big relief for me to know that I’m not alone in sometimes feeling like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it’s a function of where we are in life. Perhaps it’s something else. What we could both agree upon was that we don’t know the answer.
I’m a problem solver – not in the typical “math problem” sense of the word. I can’t stand working with numbers. It’s one of the things that ran me out of the accounting profession. I don’t have that sense of glee that comes from seeing the numbers all work out.
Instead, my mind likes to chew on puzzles, the “if I try this, then that will most likely happen” scenarios. I’ve always been really good at looking at others’ situations and breaking them down into neat little puzzle parts, zeroing in on the missing piece. Several people have told me this is a gift.
Maybe it is a gift, but it feels more like a curse, increasingly so over the past two or three years. The more I’ve waded into the struggles of others, the more I’ve felt like I’m drowning. There’s give and take, and then there’s give and give some more, to the point that I only exist when I can offer my blood up to the next vampire. In some cases its my job, meaning it’s bought-and-paid-for – in fact, some people likely think it costs way too much – but I sometimes wonder how much of it I have left to dole out. More than once, I’ve clawed for the light at the end of the tunnel that I couldn’t even see. My grasping didn’t even feel like me – unless it’s welcome-to-mid-life crisis me, the new me-that-I-don’t-want-to-be.
I reached out to a friend because I thought he needed it. Little did I realize just how much he would help me. Listening to him and talking with him revealed my very own light bulb. It had been there all along, a bare filament, alight.
Instead of looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, I’m perfectly capable of flipping a switch and flooding my world with my own light. And, that’s exactly what I remembered that day.
Sometimes, we do reposts because we need to remember that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Our own words can be that light when nothing else enlightens. Thanks for reading my blog, today and any day.
I enjoy it when you share your introspection, Andra. This is a very rich post. Some of the questions you ask of yourself I think we all need to ask more frequently, and your conclusion is wise. i hope you get encouragement from your own words. They are from a strong and very capable woman!
The reasons to share words like this is to hopefully encourage others. I’m glad this post hit that mark for you, Debra.
Nice one:)
Thank you, Roger.
Always a pleasure Andra, never a chore!
Now you know why your gin segment was exactly what I needed.
Yep!
And this, dear, is a Big. Ass. Spark. Beautifully written and a tricky frame of mind I’ve felt, too.
I always feel like these are pity parties, even though they’re really not. I’m glad it makes a Spark.
Is this where I sing my rendition of Debbie Boone’s “You Light Up My Life”? Does anyone really even want to hear that? I think not. I think my singing would permanently extinguish many lights.
Shine on!
Please, spare us all……….
Ouch!
I was expecting some cheerful “oh we would all love to hear you sing.” But now. Just ouch.
You can sing for me at lunch tomorrow. I’m safe saying that, because I know you won’t.
That sounds like a dare …
Fine. I dare you to record yourself on YouTube singing Railroaded From the Rear End. Because that has to be a song. I loved loved loved the title.
LOVE IT!!!!! You are so spot on! Funny right before reading this I sent Carrington a text that told her she is a shining light, a beacon, and she shines, shines, shines. Same goes to you my darling friend. You may not think that of yourself all the time. You’ll probably tell yourself, oh, they don’t know the real me, but…you shine. We are but mere moths to your flame (but even moths carry their own flame within). Thank you for the reminder and for the smile.
My blog is the real me. Otherwise, no one would read it. Most people can sense truth, I think. However, I do not put everything about me on my blog. Nobody would read that, either. Ha.
I’m glad this post spoke to you, Lori, and I’m proud to call you friend.
And this is why we write…
Lucky 2013, Bonita. I hope I get to give you a big, fat hug really soon.
Thanks! True words of wisdom never tarnish with age.
You crossed my mind when I reposted this, Sheri.
De-light-ful reminder that each of us has a light and we can flip that switch ourselves. Thankfully, our friends, even the needy ones, can remind us (me) to reach out and do so. As been said already, “shine on”! ~Ellen
Thank you, Ellen. May you shine on as well.
I like that. I shall remember that other people are lights, and have switches, so I can flip them off any time I please.
Stand strong, gunslinger.
When Mom was fighting for Kaylee and shit looked bleak, as in “You just lost the kid and the court battles are all going the wrong way” bleak, that’s what Scott said to Mom. And it gave her another year of resolve. Which was almost exactly how much she needed.
It’s a good thing to say.
Thank you.
Reposts are good, Andra, both for the reader and for the writer, especially this one. I have often found that in the effort to help others, I’ve helped myself as well. Life can be grand, can’t it?
However it hits me, it’s grand, Penny. Surely better than the alternative.
Very true, Andra. We could wait for someone to switch the light on for us, but we may be waiting for some time – we may as well just do it ourselves!
I used to love number puzzles as well. I think I’ll have a look to see if I still do…
It certainly works, once I stop feeling sorry for myself, Tom.
For the most part, we decide for ourselves how to light our way, some just take complex courses to get where they want to be. Helping others in whatever fashion is always a fine course of action, no matter how little light is generated. Just day by day and plunging forward.
You are the master of the finer course of action, Lou. I always try to learn from you.
Back now, to comment: I have been meditating on this post all day. it has so much to say to us as we begin anew on a life after time spent celebrating with those we love. You posted the words I needed to hear today, Andra, thank you.
The holidays are hard on us, aren’t they. Even celebrating can take a lot out of me. I’m glad the post spoke to you, Kate. Thanks for letting me know.
Shine on!
A good idea.
Thoughtful post, Andra.
Andra, you’ve touched a chord for many of us it seems. There’s always a way, if we reframe the puzzle.
I am having one of those weeks and flipping on the light is a perfect way to change my perspective.