Welcome to my new blog.
It’s long overdue to express my observations outside of the Career Transition domain. I hope you enjoy.
I hadn’t been on the subway in Manhattan in a while, but I’d like to think I still have my NYC danger-radar working well. Imagine my surprise, then, when I chose to sit in a large open gap on the subway next to a man who was kind and welcoming, but who as soon as the doors closed, became a raving lunatic.
Alcohol-laden breath breached my nostrils as he lectured the subway car on Adam and Eve and how white people don’t care about black people (He was black). At every stop, he stopped talking. As the car started moving, he’d resume. With every lecture, the passengers averted their eyes leaving me to wonder if I was a fool to stay in my seat. Every gut check told me I wasn’t in danger, and it was OK to stay. I even started laughing inside at how absurd the whole thing was.
At one stop, someone got separated from their friend as the doors closed and this agitated my drunken seat mate greatly. He put his hands in prayer position, starting rocking back and forth in his seat and heatedly chastised his audience for not joining him in prayer. Still feeling safe and not expecting what happened next, I opened my mouth and leaned in to the praying man.
“Not everyone prays on the outside.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” he said. “Yes.”
He leaned back in his seat, dropped his prayer-poised hands and closed his eyes. He prayed “inside.” A few seconds later, he was very concerned that he was going to die.
He started muttering: “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”
“Not today. You are not going to die today,” I said incredulously at my certainty that was the thing to say.
He turned to me. “I’m not?”
I repeated. “Not today.”
The train came to a stop. He exited the train, never taking his eyes off me even as the doors closed and we pulled away. He waved from the platform.
The woman next to me on my other side now leaned in to me.
“You gave that man peace today.”
I guess I did. I don’t know.
She and I had a lovely conversation for a couple of stops about religion, church, old people and travel in a flowing exchange that seemed so deep for the short amount of time we shared. We parted ways without fanfare as the doors opened. I went about my day.
I had no agenda. I just felt open to connecting with another human. NYC makes me feel vulnerable, especially when I’m near the Ground Zero neighborhood which is where my subway dropped me off. I feel both expansively alive and fearful that I’m on borrowed time.
What do you see in this story? Comment and let me know.
Peace comes when we feel “seen” not just tolerated. To reinvent ourselves we must be separated from our friends. We all need a ground zero to remind us we have limited time in which we have to be reinvented. The best exchanges happen when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable.
Indeed!
Even though we’ve all been taught to NEVER talk to, or even make eye contact with strangers on the subway, I Know you’re a diehard people person, & I think that was Awesome of you. I’ve also spoken with strangers sitting next to me…& I believe it makes you both feel good. But back off if your gut says”WhatTheFRUThnkn”
You’re a people talker too! My husband always remarks that if he leaves me anywhere for a couple of minutes, I’ll be chatting with someone when he gets back. I find strangers easier to talk to sometimes.
It seemed like the words came through you to the man. Not saying you weren’t involved but that you were also the vehicle, the ‘mouth’ for the messages, the peacefulness. Also, the clear gut check that you were safe throughout. Very cool and that you trusted it? even better. Channel often? 😉
I do, Caroline although I don’t hang a shingle. It’s part of what I do when I work
with people to figure out what they want to do with their life.
New York is such an incredible backdrop for serendipitous interactions that sometimes take on the magical. I was in the subway with my family and a few of us were holding on to the pole in a crowded car. First, a very stinky man offered my granddaughter a seat…a lovely gesture. Then I went to take a picture of our “pole party” and a man who was holding on as well offered to step out. I asked him to stay in and said – “you can be our Uncle Ralph” well, I won’t goninto the specifics but we had a lovely interaction and it started the kids on a search for other “Uncles” as the day went on. We collected 4 all together – all 4 from other countries and nationalities. All more than happy to play along and pose for a photo with the 3 of them. An unforgettable day we’ll never forget. Playfulness is a beautiful thing…
Gayle,
That’s a great story! I love the ‘uncles’!
Choosing love is the through line but I do understand how scary it can be.
Thx for sharing. LBF