The Station
There’s a particular joy in taking the train. The anticipation of a finely oiled machine arriving at the station on (or very nearly close to) time, departing for a destination that you’ve not been to for a while, and then the satisfaction of knowing you’re on an adventure. These are all the feelings I get when I’m afforded the opportunity.
On the flip side, you’ve got to get yourself to a central location or a stop along the way. You’ve got to practice your patience and presence, your skills in maintaining a finely honed external composure while your insides are chewing through walls. Perhaps it’s just me, but waiting can seem like an eternity within the space of five minutes.
It doesn’t help to acknowledge that trains and their stations have become metaphors for our lives. Even today, as I was excitedly hurrying about having had a great few conversations with people I’m honoured to be in similar employment, I was stamping my feet on the inside, waiting for my train and my opportunity to arrive. I radiated patience externally, but internally, I was a shattered mess.
Stations and trains are all about destinations and decisions. It is figuring out where you’re going to go and actualizing the process to get tickets and get your ass on the rail car. It’s pretty simple, but it takes planning. It takes patience to know that not everything will happen the way and when you want. Understanding that diversions will happen, conductors will inspect your ticket, and arrival times may change. It brings all of you to participate.
If you’re starting to get a theme this month, you’d be awarded a gold star. Emma and I are currently waiting for our respective trains at the station. There are adventures to be had together and apart. There are moments to huddle up and rejoice and moments to take our separate paths and long for reunion. There’s a lot to move, both figuratively and literally, and we’re waiting, pacing, and impatiently.
She and I are learning that what we wish for ourselves and each other isn’t something that happens because you wake up one morning and decide, “It shall be so.” Yul Brenner (shoutout to the 2000s kids who don’t know who he is) isn’t saying, “So it shall be written, so it shall be done” as we attempt to change our lives. And yet, it’s still a privilege to wake up, messy as we are, and understand that each day poses a new opportunity: new answers, questions, and quandaries for us to encounter and give grace to.
So here we are, waiting and wondering when our trains will arrive at our chosen destinations. And, to be honest, we’re ok with it. We’ve learned that breathing becomes important, communication becomes paramount, and that a good scream, cry, prayer, and petition (along with a healthy dose of writing, natch) goes a long way to soothing over the ruffled feathers of expectation we may have. So, with a hell of a lot of grace and a fraction of excitement, we’re waiting.
Maybe you also find yourself waiting and looking down the rails, watching for that bright light and listening for the whistle. Perhaps all of your life has led to this one moment you’re anticipating. Maybe this is just another stop along an already arduous path. Whatever it is and wherever you may go, you can rest assured that you’ll get there. Why? Because, my dear souls, we’re all on journeys to an inevitable end, and the stops along the way truly make us who we are.
Find the joy in the journey, the platforms where you wait, the people you encounter, and the moments that tick by relentlessly. Take each breath to heart and remember, you are fearfully and wonderfully made, full of purpose and possibility, and a damn fine human to boot.
May it ever be so.
