The 10-Minute Train-in-a-Sliver-of-Sun Meditation and Other Moments Seized
On a recent walk home from picking up groceries, I got stuck on the wrong side of the tracks, waiting for a seemingly interminable freight train to pass. Already, I was frustrated. Grocery shopping and cooking have become a whole fraught story, since a bad blood test in mid-January has forced me onto a super low potassium diet. This means cutting out nearly all my favorite foods (Chocolate! Avocado! So many leafy greens! Sweet potatoes! Broccoli! Beans! Almonds!) So, the groceries were extra heavy with my resentment. I was primed to fight against the reality of the train preventing me from getting back to the place where I was staying (I was away). And a strange thing happened. Instead of feeling frustrated, I seized the moment.
It was a day of thin winter sun, but still, sun. Wow. After so much grey. I turned my face to the light and closed my eyes. Without any conscious thought, the gesture transformed into a meditation. I listened to the sounds around me. I was standing close to the tracks. The thundering of the passing train drowned out the world, except for the occasional near sound, which I couldn’t identify and didn’t open my eyes to understand. I trusted that the source of the sound was not threatening, even though I wasn’t in familiar territory. I let everything wash over me. The sound of heavy metal rolling…
