Two years ago, I wrote: "Catching the early train downtown. Going to travel through this brief moment of life with beautiful strangers. Peace and grace to you, my fellow pilgrims. It was a privilege to share the ride with you all this morning."
It is one of my greatest joys to be chauffeured around a city by a trusty driver while in the company of strangers and neighbours. It has been almost two months since I took public transit and I miss riding on the bus and the subway. On a cold day, the first minute inside the bus is spent being grateful to be out of the chilly wind. And on a sunny day, I love squinting out the window at the world aglow with light. But no matter what the weather, I always find myself delighted to be on a journey with random companions. On the bus, I don't have to worry about traffic or changing lanes or running out of gas or finding parking; I just step through the door which magically open for me and the adventure begins.
While the experiences of riding on the bus and riding the subway are slightly different, both are sacred spaces to me. On the bus, I never know who my driver will be. He might be singing along to French tunes or she might be quiet and watchful. Whoever is sitting in the driver's seat when I board, I am always delighted to see them because they are taking me where I need to go. So I greet them with an upbeat "Bonjour" as I step into their domain. On the subway, I sometimes catch a glimpse of the driver as the train whizzes into the station, but we have no interaction. Unlike the bus, there is no view out the window. The view is all on the inside.
I usually have a book with me when I take public transit because there is no better place to read about being human than when surrounded by living beings from all walks of life. The people on the journey are always different, but I assume that they are good citizens in our temporary community. And most of the time, I am not disappointed. People give up their seats for others. People move aside to let people enter and exit. People shift their belongings in order to give more space to others. We all accommodate each other, usually wordlessly, as we navigate the journey together.
A few months ago, I decided to make note of interesting and delightful moments on my trip downtown via public transit. There were so many fascinating people around me that I could hardly jot things down fast enough in my kitty notebook. Perhaps that day was exceptional. Or perhaps I was just paying more attention to the people around me. I suspect it was mostly the latter. Whatever the case, here is my list of delights from a ride on public transit earlier this year.
* * * * *
There are two girls sitting across from me, chatting with ease like good friends do. Their French is beautiful and lilting, like they are reciting poetry.
There is a young woman whose scarf I really like. It is a knitted scarf: grey with white and red ends and it looks super cosy. I have seen her three times in the past two weeks and I want to tell her that I think her scarf is lovely. But she exits out the rear door and I exit out the front. I whisper, "I really like your scarf," under my breath as she disappears into the crowd.
There is a guy with tattoos on his neck, checking out his reflection in the subway car window. He looks a bit unsure of himself. I want to tell him: "You're okay, man, you're good. I accept you just the way you are."
A man smelling of cigarettes and not-bathing lowers himself onto the seat next to me. I find myself breathing shallowly and I am not proud of it. I wonder what his story is and where life has been unkind to him.
An older lady gets on the subway and a young man offers her his seat. She says, "It's okay, I'm getting off at the next stop." They smile and nod at each other. There are a few of us who witness this interaction and all of us soften in our faces and bodies. At that moment I think: humans are the best things ever.
There is a man standing in my subway car who is wearing a sharp, well-tailored business suit underneath a plaid coat. I admire his impeccable style and nominate him for the "best-dressed person on this subway" award.
On the other side of my subway car, a young guy is leaning against the door. He is holding a balloon bouquet and looking at his phone as if carrying brightly coloured balloons is an everyday occurrence. One balloon has a unicorn on it and two are yellow and have smiley faces. I want to ask him what party he is going to.
There is a middle-aged man sitting a few rows in front of me who is wearing the most stunning teal turban. The colour makes me catch my breath, like bright flowers in the spring after a black and white winter.
There is a young woman with pink flower pins in her hair and red-checked shoelaces in her shoes. I admire her bold style and want to catch her eye so I can give her a warm smile. She never looks up.
An older woman sits next to me and she smells really good. I discreetly take a deep breath and turn my head toward her slightly.
Two people get on the subway, each with large pieces of luggage. Are they going to the airport? Or the bus station? Or their accommodations? I listen closely to see if I can catch a hint as to where they are from, but I am too far away to hear what they are saying. I sense their excitement and enter into it for a moment.
As the subway travels from station to station, people enter and exit the space. Some move gracefully and some are a bit clumsy. Some are energetic and others are tired. Some are purposeful while others are distracted. Together, we perform an improvised dance of coming and going. I am so grateful to be part of this diverse company.
------------
photo by me
Comments