Fraudulent Tunnels
Share
Back when I was a child, I used to craft little figures out of aluminum foil—like a misshapen bird, for instance.
My mother would ask, "What are you making there?"
My reply: "Little figures... hmm, I could probably make money with these someday."
My mother would smile.
When I was ten, I also asked my mother, anxiously, "Mom, you’ll help me look for an apartment later on, right?"
Always trapped in a positive, future-oriented bubble inside my head, I eventually found myself wandering into a dark, cold tunnel years later. There, I imagined a future with someone whose true face I had never actually seen. My fantasies went so far as to envision changing my life and moving away—building a new life that others would be proud of, or even envious of.
As I played these scenarios over and over in my mind, deep emotions would surge within me, making my face light up and even transforming my outlook and demeanor. Then one day—splash!—the bubble burst. That idealized, unseen face before me became crystal clear. It turned out to be someone sitting behind a curtain, wearing an ugly, grinning grimace. Yet, I am grateful to that indistinct face, because I am now standing in the light at the end of that cold tunnel, and regarding the present, I see everything more clearly and what I need to work on.
My mother would ask, "What are you making there?"
My reply: "Little figures... hmm, I could probably make money with these someday."
My mother would smile.
When I was ten, I also asked my mother, anxiously, "Mom, you’ll help me look for an apartment later on, right?"
Always trapped in a positive, future-oriented bubble inside my head, I eventually found myself wandering into a dark, cold tunnel years later. There, I imagined a future with someone whose true face I had never actually seen. My fantasies went so far as to envision changing my life and moving away—building a new life that others would be proud of, or even envious of.
As I played these scenarios over and over in my mind, deep emotions would surge within me, making my face light up and even transforming my outlook and demeanor. Then one day—splash!—the bubble burst. That idealized, unseen face before me became crystal clear. It turned out to be someone sitting behind a curtain, wearing an ugly, grinning grimace. Yet, I am grateful to that indistinct face, because I am now standing in the light at the end of that cold tunnel, and regarding the present, I see everything more clearly and what I need to work on.
Finally able to appreciate the warm rays of an INFP, I look back into the tunnel now with pride and I'm determined to protect my heart!
