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Inside a train. The one described below was twice as crowded as this. It was packed. |
Thank you for dropping by. I know many do, without sharing gratitudes. How come?
It's easy allowing the pressures of life to weigh us down. What I love about recovery from despair, abuse, and emotional vampires (those who want to suck all the energy out of us) is that we learn how to seize life----even in
the midst of stressful or daunting days. This has been the case for me. Today concludes perhaps one of the most demanding weeks in my life.
As I've written before, it isn't that unhappy people complain, it's more that complaining makes us unhappy. To quote from what I wrote in The Vision of This Inn,
Please, pause from persistent problems and petitions for your attention. You deserve investing in yourself.You help yourself when you share what makes your heart sing, penning your gratitudes in this inn. Go ahead, try.
Most of you know that I avoid negative people. To read more about this, please read here, too. I've written many times we are the average of the five people we hang out with. I choose to connect with those who choose hope over despair. Complaining gets us no where, it only makes our problems loom large and more disturbing. Where's the growth in that?
"Acting like a victim is a choice, not a destiny." Hope For Today, p 189
"There is much less envy of the rich by the poor than there is of the happy by the unhappy; of those who believe by those who don't believe." Dennis PraetnerGo ahead, contribute to the community shared here, by listing what turns your frown into a smile. I bet you can think of a few things that do. Oh, yeah, let's get our heart and mind involved by sharing why, also.
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Yesterday, I had several "movie" moments. I'll get to one of them in a moment. I traveled seventeen miles to the city of Richmond, using a combination of my bicycle and a metro train service known as BART. I'm getting pretty good at carrying my bike up three flights of stairs, up to the train platform.An intense and amazing business meeting transpired. I won't know the outcome for a couple of weeks. I may teach, counsel and train staff, all things I enjoy doing. Surprisingly, I was paid for my time with him. For Thursday, when I first met the director and yesterday. Can't beat that. Gosh.
Before the day's appointment, I had to wait for John, the director. This is when I met a delightful, attractive young woman. We spoke, connected, and traded numbers. We may work together, helping each other with our businesses.
Networking is critical for thriving a business. We had a two-person networking social while standing, waiting to speak with the director. I love how God orchestrates meetings I never would have imagined. That's happened with several of you. My life is richer, for getting acquainted with many of you, especially through private e-mails.
Afterwards, I stopped at a local hospital, entered a conference room and made time for reflection, prayer, meditation and study----I always have books with me. The hour and a half flew by. Was that great. Nourishing myself, spiritually and mentally does much to revive me when my resources are taxed to the max, as I was.
I needed that alone time because my day was about to get good, but crazy. I cycled to the train station, boarding an empty train, I was at the end of the line. Ahh, the welcoming sounds of silence! I sat in a cleaned out train compartment. All was good. Little did I know the drama to unfold within the next thirty minutes.
As the BART train rolled towards Oakland, people piled aboard. Frantic looks of desperation worn on the faces of many. The train became packed. The usual reticence of snuggling close to strangers was forsaken. The need to make it home, fleeing from the vestigial remains of the work week was more critical. A woman with two little kids got on. Gladly, she took my seat.
She spoke in Spanish to her daughters, not knowing I converse in that language. Her little one sat on her lap, while her six year old daughter hung on to a pole, standing next to her. Sweet nothings and admonitions to her daughters flowed from the young, handsome, fair-skinned woman who spoke English well, without an accent.
How this time will pass before this mother knows it. I know too well. The youngest girl poked me a few times as I stood inches away. I didn't mind. I thought it cute. Her mother apologized. The older girl's beaming smile as she spoke rapidly in Spanish to her mother spoke volumes. It's wonderful seeing unrestrained love between family members.
An Asian young lady, standing, wearing a skirt and high heels checked me out while facing away from me. She looked at me from the reflection in the window. Once, she turned around and looked at me directly and smiled. She had nice-looking legs. lol.
A fellow in his late twenties, dressed in an orange safety vest and lugging a huge insulated box stood next to me. We talked, him laughing at my comments. I asked if it was his lunch box. It was actually a tool box. As an electrician, he had worked on the roof all day, drinking two gallons of water during his shift. Am I lucky working in my profession. I don't have to go to the bathroom as often. :)
The train was more dense with people than the crowd waiting in front of Macy's, on the day after Thanksgiving. It was similar to images of NY subways or those in Tokyo. Then I heard the story. A young man permanently canceled his plans for the weekend by jumping in front of train on this line. All trains were thrown off schedule and people using its service were frantic, desperately trying to get home.
The train reached my destination. I squeezed sideways through the throng, to the door on the right. I placed the two heavy carrying cases I had on the platform. But, I could not get to my bike!! It was on the other side, laying against the wall. The train lurched, "the doors are now closing," was announced. I grasped a bag with each hand, heaving them into the packed travelling crowd on the train and dove back in, my backside brushed by the doors closing.
"Do you have your bags??" Several women asked.
"Yes."
"Lucky you...I didn't think you were going to make it."
"I had to make an executive decision," my eyes smiled as I said this.
Sixty pairs of eyes of those grasping poles and hanging straps stared at me, having witnessed the Indiana Jones moment. I was the only one facing the inside of the train.
"I had to return. I need my bike. It's over there, behind you, against the wall." I pointed with the nod of my head. Immobilized and pressed by the packed throng, I was.
Surprisingly, everyone's eyes smiled as they looked at me. They weren't irritated by the commotion I created. Nope, the zipper to my pants wasn't down, broccoli wasn't stuck to my front teeth. They were all kind. Wow.
Stuck on a train that passed my destination. Doesn't that sound like life? Life's monkey wrenches happen. What matters is not the journey, or my lack of control, but how I respond to such circumstances.
The next station's platform was on the other side. The side where my bike was, wedged behind a mass of bodies. The door opened.
"Could you please get my bike, it's black. It's against the wall," I pleaded. Simultaneously, a guy next to me yelled, "Make a hole!!"
Bodies responded, contorting, bending right and left. I ducked and swam through the human sea. Reaching the platform for the Broadway station in Oakland, I was reunited with my trusty steel steed. Two men had wrangled it through the crowd, smiling as they handed it to me. As the doors closed I heard applause and wishes for a good evening.
And, how was your day?
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