I’ve been taking public transit a lot the past three weeks and I have to admit I rather enjoy it. Oh, maybe not the times when the skytrain is packed with early morning commuters “sardined” together in a mass of surly, haven’t had any coffee closeness. But my trips are usually quite pleasant — I quite often get a seat right away and most of my fellow travellers are happy and content (or maybe just bored).
There is no need to think about where I am going — I am carried on my way to my destination, no worrying about crazy drivers, HOV lanes or merging onto the freeway. I can open my novel or turn on my Kobo and delve into my current book, or I can people-watch, chat to my seatmate, close my eyes for a catnap. I can use the time to reflect, plan or mull over possibilities. It can be so relaxing…
But riding the Skytrain can be a little like drifting in limbo — I’m not at home nor at my destination, but “in transit”. On the train, I sometimes feel as if I am disconnected from my life — like I could peer over my shoulder and witness my world going forward without me, while I am hurtling through time and space neither here nor there. It is an eerie feeling of separation — a weird sensation of being lost and alone but at the same time sitting in the midst of a crowd and knowing exactly where I am/where I’m going. It is unsettling — kind of like trying to imagine the end of the universe.
Perhaps, instead of viewing these feelings as a disconnect, I should explore them as a way to be in the moment — an opportunity to meditate on the now and feel a oneness with each breath. Live in each moment, be present with myself and thereby feel the connectedness that I have with my family, friends, the strangers on the train and the world.