It just so happens that a night filled with rage due to trivial upset ends with jumping on a train where the doors suspiciously aren't closing. I finally gather through the collective whispering and questioning among the commuters that apparently there is an unconscious person on one of the trains and it’s necessary for us to now wait on the tracks at the station for god knows how long until the rider is able to receive medical attention. The loudspeakers turn on and a desperate call is heard amidst the static: “Any doctors or medical professionals on the train please proceed to the last car for medical assistance. I repeat. If there is a doctor on the train please proceed to the last car of the train for medical assistance.” A woman sitting next to me looks from right to left. “Which way is it to the end of the train?” she asks. By the time I have answered her and am wondering what kind of medical professional has to ask such a dumb question she’s dashed out the door and is running down the platform. And this is when the magic happens. Only in a place like New York would 10 licensed doctors be able to answer this call. In a city with so many different professions, races, classes, and boroughs, someone on the train is bound to be a doctor, a nurse, or a fireman. Within moments the man at the end of the train is taken care of, the crowd notified, and off we go.
And as I sit quietly in my double seat, inadvertently staring out the window and thinking about the rage that consumed me upon first entering the train, I wonder where it has gone. My mind and heart, which had shrunk to a tightly constricted “Eeee” has expanded and opened to the idea that life is much bigger than our petty problems. There’s always a larger picture. And though it is important to stay present in our current lives, the old adage is also very true, “don’t sweat the small stuff.”
And I think to myself this is what meditation is. It isn't sitting on a blanket in the Ganges with the sun strategically pointed at your shoulders and the world rotating in a perfect 360 degrees only for you. Though it may sometimes feel that way, meditation is something accessible and real. Meditation is something I could feel in the take out section of McDonald's, when I'm hung over and needing a greasy burger fix. Meditation is something I can feel in that tiny sparkle of a moment after listening to a friend tell a silly joke. Meditation is taking a moment-that suspended pause filled with the time we are granting to ourselves.
Meditation is...reflecting on the magic.
