A few days ago, I snuck into an active train tunnel in Harlem. Don’t ask me what came over me, I don’t know the answer any better than you do. What I can tell you is that it was one of those experiences that resonate with you forever. Not because of the adrenaline, not because of the pictures, not because of the scratches I got climbing in and out, but because at some point I came to a very profound understanding of life.
Yep. I understood life in Harlem.
Okay maybe not. I don’t know the meaning of life. I barely know what I’m doing with my life. However, I do now know what it literally feels like to be in a tunnel and not be able to see the light at the end. I also know the relief that comes from seeing that first glimpse of light, literally (Yeah, I mean it LITERALLY). In that tunnel I experienced emotions in a very raw, instinctual way. Fear was immediate and hope came with all its biological symptoms.
**Disclaimer: This is the closest I’m willingly getting to survivor.
Now I’m going to make a deep philosophical parallel to everyday life. Brace yourselves.
There are times where we’re all down in the dumps. As an international student, that time comes around thanksgiving break. I see everyone packing up to go home to their families and realize it’s almost time to go home for me too.
Almost, but not quite. It really hits me then.
So I leave New York too, escape to Suburbia, to home cooked food and cousins. It’s the closest thing I’ve got to home.
However, the resentment and longing still lingers, but I made this decision. I know the end is near but I can’t see it yet. That desperateness rains on my thanksgiving parade. In the tunnel, there were bolted doors, where I could see the outside world but I couldn’t get out. I had to walk down my path, finish my journey and that was the only way out. No matter how much I kicked and screamed, the bolted doors weren’t going to give.
No matter how much I whine and complain finals are a week away.
Once I saw the first hint of an exit I knew I could do this. The cold was no longer bothered me, I wasn’t tired anymore and I wasn’t scared. I just had to get to the end. Nothing could stop me now. I can see the end of another tunnel now. It requires a few more sleepless nights and uneventful days. But I’ve had my fun. Now it’s time to push through to the end.
It is a bittersweet moment though when you also realize the adventure is coming to an end. The destination is only as good as the journey. Everything good must come to an end.
And at the end you will find the beginning of the next great adventure.
Yep. I understood life in Harlem.
Okay maybe not. I don’t know the meaning of life. I barely know what I’m doing with my life. However, I do now know what it literally feels like to be in a tunnel and not be able to see the light at the end. I also know the relief that comes from seeing that first glimpse of light, literally (Yeah, I mean it LITERALLY). In that tunnel I experienced emotions in a very raw, instinctual way. Fear was immediate and hope came with all its biological symptoms.
**Disclaimer: This is the closest I’m willingly getting to survivor.
Now I’m going to make a deep philosophical parallel to everyday life. Brace yourselves.
There are times where we’re all down in the dumps. As an international student, that time comes around thanksgiving break. I see everyone packing up to go home to their families and realize it’s almost time to go home for me too.
Almost, but not quite. It really hits me then.
So I leave New York too, escape to Suburbia, to home cooked food and cousins. It’s the closest thing I’ve got to home.
However, the resentment and longing still lingers, but I made this decision. I know the end is near but I can’t see it yet. That desperateness rains on my thanksgiving parade. In the tunnel, there were bolted doors, where I could see the outside world but I couldn’t get out. I had to walk down my path, finish my journey and that was the only way out. No matter how much I kicked and screamed, the bolted doors weren’t going to give.
No matter how much I whine and complain finals are a week away.
Once I saw the first hint of an exit I knew I could do this. The cold was no longer bothered me, I wasn’t tired anymore and I wasn’t scared. I just had to get to the end. Nothing could stop me now. I can see the end of another tunnel now. It requires a few more sleepless nights and uneventful days. But I’ve had my fun. Now it’s time to push through to the end.
It is a bittersweet moment though when you also realize the adventure is coming to an end. The destination is only as good as the journey. Everything good must come to an end.
And at the end you will find the beginning of the next great adventure.