Sometimes life presents tuition we never agreed to pay.
That does not make the invoice fair. It does not excuse those who helped send it. And it certainly does not require us to pretend that what happened was somehow necessary.
But having paid it, we would be foolish not to take the education.
In my latest essay, “The Price of Admission,” I reflect on a difficult period in which my family experienced considerable financial contraction while, almost simultaneously, some of the most important intellectual and creative developments of my life began taking shape.
The experience has left me considering a different way of accounting for difficult seasons:
Perhaps the value of an experience cannot be measured solely by what was lost during it, but also by what became possible because of it.
And perhaps the greater mistake is assuming that every cost should be measured only against what we lost, rather than also against who we became.
The past has already collected its payment.
It does not also get the future.
An excerpt from my forthcoming book, Elegant Transitions.
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