A Light in the Tunnel

CHAPTER ONE - WATER

His five-year-old mind was sucking up new abilities like a powerful magnetic force. For little Peter, learning how to swim was the latest in his rapidly growing arsenal of human capacities. Thus far, life was a fun game.

Presently, Peter Sol found himself sitting on the edge of the water participating in his weekly indoor swimming class at the local YMCA. There were two other boys in the group, along with their teacher. On this particular evening, these four characters had the entire pool to themselves.

Although his teacher was only sixteen, she seemed to be far older than Peter could ever imagine becoming. She was pretty to him—with blond hair, a small nose, hazel eyes and a big wide smile. He even liked her name... Carly.

The three boys were given permission to enter the pool, and Peter was able to pick up where he had left off the previous week.

He casually began navigating the warm liquid with the motions his body remembered being taught. Then, Carly blew her pink whistle, and he swam over to the side to join the other boys along the wall.

Today, she said pleasantly, I’m going to take you into the deep end.

Peter looked outward toward the other side. The indoor swimming area was massive in appearance. A sense of his smallness tickled his awareness as he cast his gaze over the entirety of the room—the huge vaulted ceiling, the broad expanse of water, the enormous glass pane windows. The smell of chemicals only served to increase his intimidation.

However, Peter had already begun to understand the satisfaction that comes from suppressing fear and conquering obstacles. He had learned no reason so far, to see challenge as anything but exploration. So he readied himself and trusted once again.

Carly kicked herself back off the wall and encouraged them to swim out toward her. Together, they all moved up along the length of the pool—staying close to the side and moving at a snail’s pace. Eventually they stopped well into an area they had never been before. Peter clutched the pale blue and white tiled railing. He saw the numbers change from three, where they had started, to eight where they now were. He had an intuitive notion of what that meant.

He had now been taking swimming classes for almost a year. He knew the drill. When they had new skills to learn, Carly would work with them one at a time. Between himself and the other two boys, Peter had the early lead on strongest swimmer. Therefore, she called him out first.

He quickly pushed himself off the wall and reached for the safety of her arms extending out before him.

Very good, his teacher said. Peter, I’m going to let you go now. Keep up the same movement that you were doing in the shallow end and just keep swimming until you reach the other wall. I’m right here next to you.

He did what he was told. It worked. The deeper water didn’t mean that the motions of his body weren’t as effective as they had been in the shallow end.

Look at you go, she said. Great. You’re a natural!

The positive reinforcement relieved some of his fear. This is good, this is good, he happily repeated.

It was hard, but he struggled across the deep width of the pool, kicking his legs and extending his arms with power. He felt Carly beside him, and her presence supported his movements. About three-quarters of the way to the other end, Peter noticed her stealth departure from the edge of his vision. She had left him to go help the next boy.

She thinks I can make it the rest of the way on my own.

He was so close to completing his goal, but he still wished he hadn’t seen her leave. Little Peter continued on a bit further, maintaining the habit of motion for a few more strokes. Then, he suddenly felt a stab of panic grab hold of his mind. He lost his momentum and swallowed a small bit of water. Simultaneously, he found himself looking toward the wall ahead, as his legs and arms worked awkwardly. Now, it didn’t seem so close at all. The distance scared him even more than losing his teacher had. His mind was now questioning his capacity to complete what just a few moments before had felt like certain success. Determined, Peter kept his arms moving, leveling out his body, and tried to start moving forward once again. He didn’t get very far before his shoulders began to feel like bricks, and his legs dropped below his torso. In a flash, his mouth was struggling to stay above the waterline. He considered screaming out a moment before he found his eyes searching the distorted world below. Very quickly he became aware of the incredible danger he was in. He thought about how he had not made noise when he had the chance. His mind yearned for that opportunity now. A second too late. He hadn’t called for help, he knew, because he didn’t want to disappoint an adult. I’m good at things, right? This was his problem. Peter wanted too badly—to be good.

The weight of his body sank lower and lower, and he soon found himself approaching the floor of the pool. The boy tilted his head back and looked up. He saw the distant light coming from the ceiling fixture high above. Terror began to wrap around his body like a tight blanket. There was no longer room for much thought. As the panic moved into submission, he noticed something inside his mind begin to crackle; under the colossal weight of water pressure—on the verge of snapping. Although he had never experienced the feeling before, he intuitively knew what it meant.

Over, finished…this is done.

Even as he came face to face with the frailty of his human existence and the resistance to leaving it behind, he felt a more powerful beckoning. Peter touched the awareness of something beyond. And, as he did so, he exploded through the fear of death. Fantastically, he came out the other side into the royal chamber of radiant acceptance. It was a place so peaceful and relaxed that the soul laughed calmly at the remembrance of being frightened. It was only a brief moment of time, but he nestled into the restful embrace of his destiny. Amidst this fresh tranquility of relaxed being, he suddenly sensed a hand grabbing hold of his body. He felt the movement of water rushing by, as he allowed himself to be carried up and up—limply toward the light.

When Peter broke the surface, he was surprised to find that he still cared a great deal about living. He gasped for breath after breath of delicious and necessary air. His lungs teemed with the joy of being able to be of use once again. As his young teacher pulled him out of the water, brought him over to the bench, and enveloped him with a dry towel—he experienced overpowering vibrations of vitality. Carly asked if he was alright. He only had the authority to nod. Inside himself, he was experiencing prevailing sensations well beyond the capacity of words to describe.

Afterward, Peter made no fuss regarding the incident. He didn’t even tell his father or his sister. In fact, he didn’t share the happenings with anyone. He moved on with his life and completely forgot about the whole episode himself.

CHAPTER TWO - AN UNCONVENTIONAL DAD

Daniel Sol was born in a different and much quieter environment than his children, a time with fewer distractions and more opportunity for thoughtful play. He divided people into two groups; those who appreciated the abilities of the mind, and those who did not. As a young man, Daniel decided to plant himself firmly into the first group. He wasn’t sure why, but as soon as he had this realization, exploring the bandwidth of thinking became the theme of his life. Daniel would zoom out to see planet Earth sitting on its’ holdings of gravity and imagine all the forms of life moving about within. He’d picture humans doing a countless number of activities, taking them all too seriously, while their planet hurtled through space. He couldn’t help but look at the entire human species and feel deep compassion for the immensity of the confusion. Somehow, a few important pieces of the puzzle seemed to be missing.

His childhood unfolded in a small farm town in southern Oregon. His family owned a winery and he and his brother were as influential in its success as their parents. From an early age, Daniel and Brian were taught how to perform almost every element of the operation. They toiled in the fields, sorted the grapes during harvest, and operated the tasting room in the summer. As they grew older, the boys developed an understanding of the most important factor—weather.

The Sol’s were fanatical about keeping track of temperature, rain, and sunshine. Timing was everything, especially deciding when the grapes would be at their peak. Daniel would lie awake contemplating, were we right to wait? Today felt pretty darn close to me.

His brother taught him how to step outside his comfort zone. When they’d learn a new skill, Brian would say: OK, now let’s do it the hard way. They’d throw a Frisbee using their left arm, snowboard down a mountain with the uncomfortable leg forward, drive a car with the weaker foot, even brush their teeth with the opposite hand. It was their way of saying let’s make sure we’re well rounded before we start getting big ideas about our skills. It was humbling and satisfying. After all, being awkward is usually pretty funny and the perfect starting place for progress.

Brian’s philosophy was to be prepared for life with a strong body, ready for any physical challenge. The mentality sunk deep into his little brother. Even as a grown man, Daniel still believed the body to be a gateway to the spiritual. But he took what being strong meant to another level. What if you have a terribly unlucky accident and become paralyzed? What if ten soldiers are faced down by a thousand? There are sensible limits to the emphasis of physical strength. But the mind, how far can that be taken? He adopted an attitude of fearlessness.

A sharp, reflective mind means that I can be ready for anything. It means I have the ability to deal with disaster, joy, conflict, and responsibility. The message propelled him on the path to eventually becoming a professor of philosophy at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

At Princeton, Daniel took great pride in creating a classroom environment where exploring truth was promoted as the most crucial element for a successful life.

The more questions the better, he’d often declare while leaning against the blackboard. Question everything. Fear of truth will always lead to a crippled life. Contrary to popular belief, philosophy is not about dropping out—the exact opposite in fact. Philosophy is about tuning in.

Many of his students didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about; others knew exactly what he meant. Either way, he was not easily forgotten.

Although his career was steady, Daniel failed in his attempt at finding a life partner. He didn’t believe in staying in relationships out of fear of solitude. As soon as he made the decision that a romance wasn’t the right fit, he’d put an end to it. Most relationships seem to be a constant trading of whose roll it is…trying to bridle the other. After so many instances of bewilderment and startle, he simply gave up. I’m tired of trying to figure out whether or not it’s my fault. It was a shame really, as the union of male and female absolutely fascinated him. There was something philosophically brilliant about sex to him. He wondered why humans didn’t take more notice of the majesty of it—the pure, raw, honest intelligence of two human bodies coming together to create mutual joy. Instead, it often seemed as if humans were ashamed of the act.

Although he eventually lost interest in marriage, he didn’t give up on fatherhood. On his forty-second birthday, Daniel clasped a firm hold on the theory of adoption.

There are children that do not have a home, he considered. I have a home with empty rooms, as well as the means to take care of them. I want children; there are children who want a father. I think I could be a pretty good father. What am I doing not embracing this opportunity?!

Adoption, what a harmonizing way for humans to support each other in community. If you were a kid who didn’t have a home, wouldn’t you hope for someone to show you the ropes, give you a chance? Man, being a kid is hard enough already, even with parents who’ve accepted their responsibility.

He settled on Peter and Jo rather quickly. Jo was only three and a half months when he took guardianship over her, Peter just past his second birthday.

From an early age he began teaching his children to recognize and realize their potential, to not be afraid of it, no matter how different it made them feel. He also made sure they knew how much he enjoyed being their dad. He thought back to what his parents used to say to him: Do you know how much we sacrifice for you?! He always disliked it when they said that, but never fully understood why, until he became a parent himself, until he took the time to investigate sacrifice. I never want to be objectified, and I never want to objectify my children, he decided. When I do that, I stop acknowledging the reality that I’m interacting with another independent being, with their own set of hopes and motivations. When I objectify, it is only about trying to use someone else to get what I want. I know that place, it’s my lower self. Parents who boast of their sacrifices make it about them and deprive their children of their own individuality.

When he considered the concept even further and asked—would I want someone to sacrifice their happiness in order to please me? The answer came to him in the form of a massive mind-opening awakening.

No way.

Like so many things, it had proven easier said than done—not using Peter and Jo as a method of inflating his own ego—not thinking that they were ‘his.’

As a result of being conscious of his own tendencies, he had great success moving in the more positive directions. Most importantly, his role as a father taught him about the art of giving. Giving gives back to me, he realized. As long as I believe that it actually fills me up.

CHAPTER THREE - STAYERS

To be your best self, first you have to take the time to know what that is. These were the first words Jo remembered her father speaking to her.

Daniel had a strategy for helping his kids figure out who they were. As soon as he thought they were capable of making a decision, he’d say: You choose!

He’d ask questions, give his opinion, then give it up.

He didn’t demand for Jo to wear a helmet when she rode her bike. Instead he asked: Why would you want to? Then they’d have a chat about protecting the body. If she still insisted on not wearing it, that was her choice. The only thing he demanded was that she listened openly.

There were a whole slew of eccentric parenting methods that Daniel implemented.

I don’t think we should ask for gifts or ever expect them, he told them. If someone wants to give something, that’s up to them. Giving a gift should be completely voluntary. Otherwise it defeats the purpose. Or, he’d suggest: You might want to try finding time every day to close your eyes while staying awake. Notice the difference in how you feel when your eyes are closed. Do you need time for both? You decide.

Like many other parents, Daniel was wary of predators. However, his solution was not to keep his children by his side at all times. Instead, when he felt they were old enough to explore on their own, he communicated with them as if they were adults. Some grownups are ill and confused. Usually it’s because of their own hurtful experiences as children. Don’t be angry or fear them, and don’t think that most people aren’t trustworthy. Just know that a few of us have forgotten how to be good.

On her sixth birthday, Jo developed her own particular system for living life well. It was on this day that she founded an obsession with never allowing what she considered to be, important happenings, slip away from her