Future, Failure, and Progress

The line to this particular stage of Life was a long one, but it was finally my turn.

The large door loomed over me, concealing adventures, tears, mysteries, and triumphs behind it. Two people stood next to the door; one a doorman and the other dressed in a finely tailored suit. The suited man had a long white beard that curled in many different directions, a stark contrast to the neatness of the rest of him.

My palms were itching in anticipation, heels bouncing off the ground. For years I had waited to enter this next stage of Life, and this particular stage was called “Freshman I”.

I cast a glance at the bearded man. “Who’s this?"

The doorman was so busy scratching away at his clipboard, he barely looked at me. “This is Tim. He’ll be making sure you don’t get too… distracted in there. You’ve got a trip-planner in your bag in case you need to manage Tim. Otherwise, he’ll lead the way and you’ll be forced to follow blindly.”

I snorted. Distracted? I’d gone through the other stages of Life without being bogged down with so-called “squirrel-thoughts”, and I wasn’t about to start now. “Are you sure I’ll need him?”

Tim rolled his eyes condescendingly. “You literally can’t go through the next stages of Life without me. You didn’t need me before because I wasn’t as integral to your journeys, but I am now.”

He took his pocket watch out, and unlocked the great door with a key that dangled off the chain. “Now, if you’re ready, I’d like to get moving. I don’t like to stop.” I shrugged, and followed Tim into the darkness of Freshman I.

“This is… nice.” I uttered a complete lie as I was greeted by a stony tunnel that was dimly lit by flickering torches. I could barely make out the end of the tunnel. An F stood between me and the next stage of Life, and the letter was illuminated by the bright Light behind it.

I smiled at the comforting sight, hopeful for what was next. “Tim, what does the F stand for?

“Currently? It stands for Future,” Tim said.

I nodded, beginning my walk down the hall. It made sense. I was excited to begin my new adventure, antsy to get through the challenges thrown my way. I had heard tales of the next stages, fables of Sophomore, Junior, Senior, College Freshman I, and many more egging me on through the darkness. The right-now didn’t matter as much as getting to whatever the next stages were. If F was for Future, I figured I was on the right track.

Just as we fell into a comfortable silence, Tim held out an arm to stop me from moving forward. “This stage is different from the previous ones in numerous ways, but one of the differences is Loads.

I raised an eyebrow. “Loads?”

Tim sighed in annoyance. I was getting tired of his attitude. “Yes, Loads. I’m not going to overwhelm you, but it’s very important that you learn to carry your Load fairly quickly. I’ll start small, and work my way up to a larger Load. If you do this stage right, you’ll be used to them by the end of the stage. Tim reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pair of ballet shoes, extending them to me. “You’ll be carrying these from now on.”

I suddenly had a backpack, and I unzipped it to place the shoes in. Once I saddled the bag, Tim and I were off once more. The weight wasn’t unbearable, but it was uncomfortable. It shouldn’t have been this difficult to maintain my walking speed and also keep up with Tim, who seemed to be sprinting ahead of me. I set the pack down, mournfully tossing out my planner in an attempt to relieve some of the weight.

“Hey! Can you just stop for a second?” I panted.

Tim turned, scoffing. “Stop? You must be out of your mind. I stop for no one. As a matter of fact, your next Load is here.”

I groaned in annoyance, taking a step backwards. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m having enough trouble keeping up with you as is, and the last thing I need is more onto my Load.”

Tim procured two large textbooks and a computer, and I didn’t even get the chance to run away before they zoomed into my backpack. I stumbled backwards, caught off-guard by the new weight.

“Is this really necessary? Do I have to do all this?”

Tim’s face, as usual, remained indifferent. “It’s not my place nor your place to say anything about your Load. You just have to keep walking.”

I pulled the straps tighter and resumed walking, but the silhouetted F at the end of the tunnel didn’t seem to be getting any closer. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t thrown the planner out, as Tim was getting ahead of me faster than I’d have liked. Soon, I lost sight of him, and was cornered by figures of darkness.

I noticed three shadows dancing along the walls, illuminated by the torches.

“My name is Alecto,” One hissed. The other two cackled, flanking me on either side. I assumed they had names, but I didn’t care to ask for them. Even from the shadows, I could tell they had a face not even their mother or father could love (Virgil 224).

“Say, you look lost. Where’s your guide?” Another sharp voice cackled.

“I can’t keep up with him,” I sighed.

“That explains what they’re saying right now, then.” I could hear the evil smirk from Alecto’s tone. “They’re watching you. You’re failing. You’re not doing what you’re supposed to be doing. Everyone can carry your Load by now, you’re just weak.”

Suddenly, my backpack felt heavier. Alecto pushed a sack of alphabet letters that caused me to stumble. They gazed back at me, taunting my failure. I gripped my backpack straps angrily, forcing them out of my sight. Their words bit at my mind like snakes, sending me into a spiral of concern. Was I really not progressing as I should have been? Was I too weak to carry even a small burden? Instead of standing for Future, the F at the end seemed to only remind me of my constant failure at every obstacle I was facing.

F for failure didn’t sound as hopeful as future.

I then noticed something up ahead, or rather, someone. A frail old man sat with his back against the wall, and a lego city sat beside him. Tim stood next to him, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Who are you?” I inquired.

“My name is Sock, because I sock it to em’. The truth, that is.”

I snorted incredulously. “Why legos? You look a little old to be playing with blocks.”

“I’m building a perfect city. A city where people don’t have to experience bad things. A city where everyone does as they should.”

“That’s impossible,” I stated bluntly.

Sock smiled knowingly, leaning his head against the rocky wall. “That’s because it’s all theoretical. Everything in here,” he waved around, “is just an imitation of what it’s supposed to be. The Truth lies behind the door at the end of the tunnel, in the light. I should know, because I’ve been there.”

“Why did you come back down?”

“I saw the Truth, and I needed to show those in this tunnel the Truth as well (Plato 211). The Truth is perfection, how could I not share it?”

I frowned. “I’m not perfect, though. I never will be. I’m never good enough.”

Sock shook his head. “In real life, the most a person can do is strive towards the lego city.” Sock lifted the lego city, storing it in my backpack. “This should help you on your journey. Good luck.” Instead of weighing me down as I anticipated, the legos lightened my Load.

Yes, I was still carrying burdens, but they were not as heavy anymore.

I continued on my way, dodging an InstaBeast and a SnapCritter with immense difficulty. I came across many different people in the tunnels, each gifting me with something to ease my Load. Aristyle gave me shoes to help my steps in the right direction towards virtue in all that I did. Marcus gave me Markers to help write a little each day to remain objective in my journey through the tunnel. I couldn’t control my surroundings, but I could control my reaction to them (Aurelius 41).

The more gifts I received, the lighter my backpack became. I dropped off my tiny letters with Marcus. When I found myself hating those who had somehow made it through Freshman I, I stepped on those feelings using Aristyle’s shoes of Virtue. When I lost sight of the light, I relied on Sock’s City to guide me through the dark tunnel.

Each time I would receive a Load, I would set it back down. The Light was closer, now, and it drew me forward. The prospect of being free helped me drop my Load. As I approached the light at the end of the tunnel, I noticed that it was P instead of an F.

“A ‘P’?” I asked.

For the first time, Tim smiled faintly. “Progress in the Present, child. At the beginning of your journey, you were so focused on the Future that you couldn’t interact with the present. In the middle of your journey, you became so overwhelmed by standards and other peoples’ subjective opinions that you only felt Failure. As you picked up wisdom, however, your Load lightened. You realized that you were not alone, and that you didn’t need to worry about points or letters. You needed only to move forward, and to make progress.”

My eyes widened, but I still had a question. “Why didn’t I see a P in the beginning?”

Tim chuckled. “No one ever does. It’s difficult to see that Progress is the ultimate goal when you are only concerned with the Future and Failure. You couldn’t see it because you didn’t have the tools to see it. The people in the tunnels helped clear your vision, and gave you an understanding of what was truly important: Progress. Once you strive to be the best you can be, you don’t have to worry about the little things.”

I turned back to the dark reaches of the tunnel, saluting the lessons it taught me. Then I turned and walked into the light, ready and armed with the knowledge to face the next stage of Life that was ahead of me.

Whatever was next, I knew I would be ready.