mishlania

The Train Keeps Rolling On

I’ll borrow an analogy from a friend of mine, with her permission.

I’ve been on a train for years now. We all ride it. We are all passengers. We all get the deal.

Follow the routine.

Do what you’re told.

Enjoy the scenery as you go.

Seats can be comfortable, some more so than others, but the train is the same for all passengers. The rails are common for all of us.

One day, each one of us will get off the train, and it will be changed forever by our existence.

Maybe you will shout something to the other passengers, get them to think differently about a controversial topic.

Maybe you will get some grafitti done on the walls, or under your seat. Or on yourself.

Maybe you will blow up part of the passenger car, forcing some people to leave the train earlier than they intended.

Maybe you will help some of those passengers to stay inside a while longer, and go further in their journey than they had thought they could.

Maybe you will meet someone, and create something beautiful together in that train.

The scenery is just as beautiful as when it started. Just a question of paying attention. The lights are just as bright. The colours just as vivid and alive. Nostalgia is an illusion; the scenery, along with the train itself, have never ceased to be beautiful.

The speed does not waver. It only seems to slow down or speed up, depending on your state of mind. Sometimes, it feels like it has stopped. Others, like it could not go any faster.

Very rarely, it feels as though it has ceased to be on rails, and you are alone in the passenger car, flying through the air, cold, stuck in time, waiting for it to finally crash against the mountainside, a fiery conclusion worthy of your efforts, and the end of the line.

I don’t want to feel that way.

I must remember.

The rails are still there.

I am not alone.

I may see the end of the line earlier than I intend to.

Still.

I will not forget what I am here to do.

Follow the routine.

Do what I’m told.

Enjoy the scenery as I go.

Sing some songs to the other passengers.

Help them pass the time during the boring bits of the journey.

Maybe find someone, and create something beautiful with them.

Be a source of laughter and hope for those in need of it.

Get some graffiti done under my seat.

Maybe someone will read it down the line, when I’m gone.

Maybe they’ll like it.

Maybe they won’t.

I won’t care.

I’ll be on the next train by then, hunched over, head upside down, writing under my new seat.

letter

Back to Work