One of the books I’m reading is This Is How It Always Is, by Laurie Frankel. It’s about two parents—incredibly conscientious and loving parents—struggling with how to help their youngest child navigate an extremely difficult and confusing life circumstance.If you like to read, don’t you love it when the title of a book is buried somewhere inside it and then unexpectedly appears in some line of dialogue and because of the context you suddenly realize what the book is really—I mean really—about? When that happened in This Is How It Always Is I have to say it hit a very tender spot in me. I had to put it down, close my eyes, the a minute and just breath. It’s a good thing. I read stories to be moved by them. To get poked and prodded and learn things about myself along the way.It probably won’t hit you the same way but I wanted to share that bit of dialogue with you because it meant so much to me. Edited so it makes sense, here are our two loving parents in a serious conversation about making impossible decisions for their kids, from This Is How It“It’s is such a hard road … It’s not easy … But I’m not sure easy is what I want for the kids. I mean, if we could have everything, sure. If we can have it all … I wish them easy, successful, fun-filled lives, crowned with good friends, attentive lovers, heaps of money, intellectual stimulation, and good views out the window. I wish them eternal beauty, international travel, and smart things to watch on TV. But if I can't have everything, if I only get a few, I'm not sure easy makes my wish list … Easy is nice, but it's not as good as getting to be who you are or stand up for what you believe in … Easy is nice, but I wonder how often it leads to fulfilling work or partnership or being … Easy probably rules out having children … or helping people, making art, inventing anything, leading the way, tackling the world's problems, or overcoming your own. … You’d think, if it were the right thing to do, wouldn’t we know it? … But when was the last time something was bothering one of the kids or they were acting strange or not sleeping or doing well in math or sharing nicely … and we knew why? I mean absolutely knew what was wrong and what should be done to fix it and how to make that happen. Never. Not ever. Not once. You never know. You only guess. This is how it always is. You have to make these huge decisions on behalf of … this tiny human whose fate and future is entirely in your hands, who trusts you to know what’s good and right and then be able to make that happen. You never have enough information. You don’t get to see the future. And if you screw it up, if with your incomplete, contradictory information you make the wrong call, well, nothing less than your child’s entire future and happiness is at stake. It’s impossible. It’s heartbreaking. It’s maddening. But there’s no alternative. This is how it always is.”That dialogue somehow stirred up all my fears about failing as a parent, and as a human in general. What I didn’t expect was for it to somehow soothe those fears by making me face the heartbreaking, maddening, impossibility of it all. I mean, life, right? It’s so much, too much, and you’re never enough, but what are you gonna do? What are you going to do? This is how it always is. There’s something strangely comforting about being reminded that of course life is more than you can handle. Of course there are mistakes. Of course it hurts. Of course you will have regrets. Of course it’s all bigger than you. This is how it always is.Life is not a game to be won or lost. It’s a gift—a wondrous, heartbreaking, impossible, maddening gift. You can’t beat it. You won’t beat it. You can only live it. So cut yourself some slack. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, take a moment, then get back out there. Do your best with what you’ve got. It’s all you can do. And I’m pretty sure it’s all you need to build yourself a beautiful life.