Over the past few weeks, I have had the absolute privilege (so she says tongue in cheek) of going into town on numerous occasions. This obviously meant traveling on public transport. You can well imagine how, often times, I have had to morph into another entity, on a really high spiritual level so that train-rage would not entice its sly self into my psyche.
You may well ask why would it be considered a “privilege” well because I do not often frequent town that often and when I do, I can only say it is an experience in itself.
I’d calmly like to share with you the many reasons why I could so easily run amok in the streets, with a hint of the old psychopath in my eye. Stress, as you know is the trigger to many illnesses and other complaints, so these are some of the reasons I think traveling on public transport could well trigger:
Insanity
Frustration
Aggressiveness
Train-Rage
Ticket-Rage
People-Rage
Ticket Inspector-Rage
Rage-Against-Thy-Fellow-Commuter
Tourists-taking-their-time-Rage and-its-only-8.30am in the morning. (It’s pre-tourist hour and they should remain in their hotel room, dining on their croissants and black coffee until after the rush hour.)
The-Elderly-Curb-Crawlers-Rage (who crawl out of their homes at a snails pace before 9.30am when they damn well know that it causes pedestrians to come to a stand-still.) Have you ever tried legging it for a train only to have Grandma Betty and her trolley and Poop the Dog straddle more than 3/4 of the pavement?
On every occasion that I have ventured into town, I’ve found myself doing a lot of “expanding time,” inhaling and rolling my eyeballs up to the heavens. 8 out of 10 times that I have used the trains, there has been some sort of delay, I have had to get off a train, I have been stuck in a tunnel for what seems like an eternity, being assailed by the smell of armpits and stale farts.
Once upon a time, when I was a frequent and avid traveler on a daily basis into town, and an incident of any type occurred regarding my train, I would stomp off in a huff and try to walk the long journey home. It did not matter that I could use an alternative route or take the bus, because in my state of vexation all common sense would go out of the window. Yet, now that I am older and hopefully wiser, I just tend to inhale, close my eyes and say to myself that I am expanding time. Which this means to me is that everything is going to be ok; that I have all the time in the world and I will not stress. To others this statement could mean a number of things from, she knows she’s going to be late, but she is not stressing, to “expanding time my a..”
Whichever way see it, for me it is about maintaining self-control and not throwing a tantrum so that I expose my darker side.
So, I have made up my mind to walk with an Ipod full of meditative or calming tunes. To have my bible tucked somewhere close by, in case I feel the intrepid hands of Satan try to tempt me to show Mista-Rude-Ticket-Inspector those “significant” two fingers and to remember that I can always close my eyes, inhale and do a bit more of the “expanding” time.
Happy traveling
