A Yearner’s Dilemma

The boy sat at the crest of the sandy New Mexico hill and gazed out toward the pastel-colored horizon. The air was still and the sun seethed his flesh. He didn’t mind the heat. The sweat reminded him that he was still alive, that he could still feel discomfort. If I could just finish school and get into college, he thought, I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore.

The student waited anxiously in his college dormitory for his exam grades to appear on his computer screen. He refreshed the screen continuously, hoping for the grades that would lead him towards salvation in the form of salary. If I can just finish college and get into Grad school, I will have done what I need to do, he thought. I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore.

The young graduate sat at his newly purchased office desk and stared at a phone that wouldn’t ring. Any day the company’s HR department would call to let him know whether he was selected for the position. If I can just get a good job I will have done everything I set out to do, he thought. I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore. I’ll have a salary.

The young professional calculated his new retirement plan to gauge whether it was trending towards his financial goals. These goals were fed to him via his company and told him whether or not his life would be secure in old age. Four years into work and he was still far off-target. He wouldn’t have his annual health insurance, life insurance, or vacation savings at an adequate level to keep from going under. Heart attacks are on the rise, after all. So he stared at his financial figures. Numbers floated in the space of his computer screen, but the numbers were not high enough. If I can just have another one hundred thousand dollars, I will have made it, he thought. I’ll have everything I need. I can finally stop chasing.

Having suffered a mid-life crisis in spite of a generous salary raise, the newly anointed executive stared at his newfound gray hairs and furrowed brow. Who is this balding and debilitating thing staring back at me through the mirror, this creature that was once a child? Now the kids have expenses for their sports. The family food bill is a flood that’s drowning his hopes and dreams. Damn their carnivorous appetites and their needs for toys. I was supposed to have made it, the executive thought to himself. But I’m falling farther behind. He couldn’t even begin to think about college expenses for the kids, nonetheless retirement. He’d be bound to virtual work as an octogenarian, crippled in a nursing home yet still reviewing spreadsheets. But if I can just get another two hundred thousand dollars, he thought, maybe I’ll have what I need. Maybe I can stop worrying. I will have made it.

The newly retired corporate careerist left the office at noon a free man. He was scared: hopefully Social Security would be high enough to cover his future costs. He had no benefits. And to make matters worse he had crippling anxiety from the past decades of work, and his fears steadily debilitated his cardiovascular health. He had enough, but did he have enough to truly be free? His dreams of European vacations still seemed out-of-reach. Maybe if I work part-time, he thought, I’d still have time to get there. He just needed an extra hundred thousand dollars. Time was ticking. The males in his family have a history of strokes and most of these strokes hit in the late 60s. He was 67. And yet he hadn’t done anything but try to get ahead. None of it felt fair. He didn’t have anything that he was entitled to.

Still, he thought, just another hundred thousand dollars and I’ll truly be free. I’ll have what I need to cover my bases. I will have made it. I can finally stop worrying.

He thought of the little boy on the New Mexico hill and wished he’d learned to stop yearning sixty years prior.