Here I am standing on the elevated tracks platform of the Long Island Rail Road. This commuter rail system took me to and from various work locations in NYC for over 40 years. Just thinking about how many years I dragged my butt on that train each morning and night blows my mind!
I must confess that I always had a love/hate relationship with that rail system and the commuting experience overall. On the one hand, it brought me safely each day to my place of business and helped me to avoid the torture of sitting in rush hour traffic.
In the mornings, I could read, listen to music, catch up on work or talk to friends. At the end of the day, I could sleep, enjoy a “tall boy" or scan the late edition sports section.
It was anything but reliable, but there was always predictability to the experience, which made it seem so familiar and somewhat safe. On the other hand, though, there was something very dehumanizing and draining about the experience.
People generally looked miserable, waiting on the platform early in the morning. They prepared themselves for the challenge of clawing one another, once the doors opened, for an available seat.
Once on the train, people would routinely chat loudly on their cell phones, sharing personal aspects of their lives nobody wanted or needed to hear. They placed their bags on seats, so nobody invaded their personal space. They stretched their legs out so that you had to contort yourself like a pretzel for the duration of the trip. The frequent announcements of delays were enough to set your nerves on edge.
Once you arrived in Penn Station, the final destination, if you stopped on your walk for a second to adjust your bag strap, you would run the risk of being trampled by the stampeded of frenetic commuters rushing to get to their desks.
Commuting was not nirvana…far from it. But you know something, 40 years is a big part of your life. Sure it was miserable at times, but it is a part of my story…a part of my past.
No matter how hard you try or how far you run, your history is always with you. You are a product of the layers of years and events that have been part of your life.
When I think about those cold mornings on the platform and all of the delayed departures and arrivals, I think I will now cherish those moments as an important part of my story.
Maybe it’s time to make peace with the railroad.
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