Public Introspection: Maybe Life IS a Subway...

I have discovered a new talent in myself. I am uncharacteristically well balanced on the train.

I say uncharacteristically because having good balance isn't really a conclusion you might jump to about me. I mean, it's not like I fall down a lot or anything; don't get the wrong idea. But I was certainly never a gymnast or ice skater or dancer, much to my mother's dismay. But I can vaguely remember not being terrible on the balance beam in the playground. And I actually took to snow skiing quite well the few times I've gone. Maybe it's my flat feet that keep me so grounded, or some scientific miracle in the distribution of my weight. At least it serves some purpose. At any rate... I rarely need to actually be a straphanger on the train.

If you're paying attention, really focusing, it's not hard to be able to stand in the middle of the train, not holding onto anything, and stay standing just fine. It feels, I would imagine, kind of like surfing. If you're focusing on the view or your phone or your daydreams, it's a bit harder. I was thinking through this whole theory just the other day on a crowded train ride home. I was deep in thought about the philosophical meaning behind this phenomenon when the train jerked to a quick stop, and I ended up embedded in the back of a trench coat standing in front of me. I laughed to myself after apologizing and thought about how God was probably having a chuckle at me as well. Here I am, thinking not just about the picture of my standing on my own two feet in the midst of a crowd and keeping balance without help just fine, and then the brakes screech and smack.

Oh, I so would have opened a Sunday school lesson with that thought just mere years ago.