thoughts from a train

Take every opportunity to write, I tell myself.

Take every opportunity to write.

What if I don't know what to write about?

I'm sitting on the train waiting to go back to Naperville. It's 4:30, and the train doesn't leave till 5:00. I can't look out the window because all I can see is concrete. I look at the empty seats ahead of me and I wonder who will fill them.

I miss the beach. My mouth longs for the taste of the ocean, my skin is begging for the warmth of the sun, and my feet are dying to feel the squishy, soft sand beneath them. My heart longs for a reminder of the comforts of home.

I miss the palm trees and the reflections of the lights in the ocean. I miss diving into waves and letting them shoot me straight up in the air. I miss running into the ocean with my clothes on... or off (but bathing suited).

If I think hard enough I can almost begin to feel like I am there. I can feel the wind on my face but it's coming from the ocean, not from between buildings. My feet are dirty but it's from sand and dirt, not the cold, hard concrete.

When my heart was broken I would go to the ocean. Where do I go now?

There is no ocean. There are no waves. I'm just waiting on a train.

The sun is out, the air is warm, and I'm waiting on a train.

The train doesn't heal my heart. The train doesn't calm my spirit. The train does no more than serve it's purpose... it gets me from A to B, but nothing more.

How many of us go through life like that? Getting from birth to death... that's it. We serve no other purpose other than just to get through this life and (depending on what you believe) into the next.

I bet a lot of people on this train are like this train... going from A to B for a 9 to 5 only to do it all over again day in and day out... until time is up.

My biggest fear is becoming one of the train people... a 9 to 5er going from A to B only to go back to A to return to B again tomorrow. I don't want to be stuck between A and B and I don't want to be confined within 9 to 5.

What does it look like to not be one of the train people? I don't know if I know... but that's part of the excitement- not knowing. It's an ongoing adventure- not knowing.

Train people know exactly where and when they are going (which is why I don't want to be one)... no suprises, no changes, no adventures, just train schedules... telling them where and when to go.

I wonder if the train people think I am one of them. What if I were?

For split second I am tempted to get comfortable, but the woman in front of me just gave me a reason not to join the train people. She's reading an article on how to lose 20 pounds. I forgot that train people read stuff like that- stuff like dieting and wall street and hollywood pregancies and fast cars- stuff they invest their time in when they're not riding on trains... the stuff that belongs in between A and B, but after 9 to 5.

I look out the window at the empty tracks beside me and I catch a glimpse of my refelction and I realize... there is nothing wrong with train people... it's just not the life I was called to live. I bet some of these train people are perfectly content where they're at... being train people... and that's OK. But when I look back at my reflection in the window of the train... I know I don't belong.

And I sit, fearful of enjoying the train ride and settling for contentment.

I don't want to settle for the contentment of the 9 to 5 city life no more than I want to settle for the comforts of the beach... the comforts of home.

I don't want to settle.

I want to live. I want to feel.

I want to do more than just breath.




... and I want to get off this train.