It gets better: there's a light at the end of the tunnel. It may

“It gets better: there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. It may take one day, it may take ten years. But one day, you will find happiness if you manifest it. Put that energy out, and it’ll come back.”
Thus spoke Lil Xan, a voice born of the modern age — one shaped by struggle, self-reflection, and the ceaseless search for meaning amidst darkness. In these words, simple yet profound, he offers a truth that echoes the wisdom of the ancients: that suffering is not eternal, and that even in the deepest night of despair, there glimmers a light — the promise of healing and renewal. His message, though cast in the language of his generation, carries a universal lesson: that hope, when coupled with faith and action, becomes the power that leads the soul from shadow into radiance.

The origin of this quote lies in the personal experience of pain and perseverance. Lil Xan — whose journey through addiction, fame, and recovery mirrors the turbulent path of many young souls — speaks not as a philosopher cloaked in ivory, but as one who has walked through fire and lived to tell the tale. His words are born from the crucible of suffering, where the human spirit either breaks or transforms. He assures his listeners that no darkness is endless, no grief permanent. The tunnel may be long — a day, a year, or ten — but there is a light, and that light is not merely destiny; it is created by the strength of the heart that refuses to give up.

To manifest happiness is to call forth light through one’s own will and energy. This is not idle wishing, nor blind optimism; it is a spiritual labor, a discipline of belief. The ancients would have called it faith, or virtue of the heart. For what we project outward, we also draw inward. To dwell upon misery is to feed the darkness; to reach toward joy is to kindle the dawn. Thus, Lil Xan’s teaching — “Put that energy out, and it’ll come back” — is a modern phrasing of an eternal law: that the universe answers the soul’s vibration. What we give in spirit, we receive in kind. The one who sows bitterness reaps loneliness, but the one who sows hope and gratitude reaps peace, even amid the storms of life.

History itself offers many testaments to this truth. Consider the story of Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years in prison, entombed in darkness, stripped of freedom, cut off from all he loved. Yet he never surrendered his belief in the light at the end of his tunnel. He held fast to his vision of peace and equality, even when all evidence spoke against it. His faith became his light, and in time, that light illuminated not only his own path, but the path of an entire nation. When he walked free, he carried no bitterness, only the radiance of forgiveness and triumph. Like Lil Xan’s words, Mandela’s life affirms this law of the spirit: that when one manifests hope in the face of despair, the universe bends slowly, but inevitably, toward light.

Lil Xan’s quote also speaks to the rhythm of time — that healing is not immediate, nor joy instant. The modern soul, accustomed to speed and gratification, forgets that growth unfolds in seasons. The heart, like the earth, must rest, must endure the winter before the spring returns. “It may take one day, it may take ten years,” he says — and therein lies the wisdom of patience. True happiness is not a gift that falls from the heavens, but a state cultivated slowly by endurance, reflection, and forgiveness. The one who endures without bitterness will one day find that the tunnel, which once seemed endless, was in truth the birth canal of a stronger, wiser soul.

In his call to “put that energy out,” there lies also a challenge: to act in harmony with hope. It is not enough to dream of happiness; one must live as if it is already possible. The hands must build what the heart imagines. The voice must speak light, not despair. Even the smallest act of kindness — a word of encouragement, a moment of self-care, a refusal to surrender — becomes a spark that guides the spirit forward. In this sense, manifestation is not magic; it is courage in motion. It is the steady, unseen work of becoming the person who can receive the joy one seeks.

So, my child, take this teaching deeply into your soul: It gets better — not by chance, but by the will to make it so. When the shadows surround you, remember that darkness is not a prison, but a passage. The tunnel is not endless; it is the bridge between despair and awakening. Believe in the light, even when your eyes cannot see it. Speak words of hope when your heart feels silent. For the energy you release — in thought, in word, in deed — will circle back to you like the tide returning to the shore.

And one day, when you least expect it, the tunnel will open, and light will flood your path. You will understand then what Lil Xan spoke of: that happiness is not found, but created; not given, but manifested. It is the echo of your own faith made real, the reward of your perseverance, the reflection of your energy returned in full. Therefore, live as a bringer of light — to yourself, to others, to the world. For though the tunnel may seem long, the light awaits all who dare to believe, to endure, and to shine.