The Relentless Train

Jason, a precocious nine year old, asked his mother,

‘Mommy, every day, as soon as we get up, there is a race to get on the train. And the train takes us to school, then to ball practice, then home, then to the table to eat, then to my bedroom. Every day! And I’m sure it’s the same for you except the stops are different. I feel as though I don’t even know who I am – other than a dutiful passenger.’

Jason’s bedroom was stop number ten for him. It was Mommy’s twenty-fifth.

Years went by. The stops varied a bit, the departure and arrival times shifted somewhat, some stops were deleted and others added, but the train kept on rolling, every single day. When Jason went off to college he found his own train and all his old stops were deleted from Mommy’s schedule. She was down to seven which made each one longer. Some were too long. She began to add stops. Tennis, swimming, bridge, bingo, girls night out, shopping days, TV programs. Seventeen stops. She breathed easier.

But one day the train stopped running. It stopped at a hospital and Mommy was placed in room 4377. She was scared. She looked around the room.

She was alone, accompanied only by a sterile heart monitor. There was no evidence of who she was. No name on the heart monitor. It wasn’t her bed she was lying in, the clothes she had on weren’t even her clothes. She wanted to scream, ‘I am Mommy,’ ‘I . . . ‘, but nothing came to her mind pertaining to who she was. She was a tennis player but there now was no court. She was a swimmer with no pool. She played bridge, but had no partner. There were no bingo cards, no girlfriends, no stores. She turned on the TV and stared at the program guide. It looked identical to a train schedule. At 10:00 this will be on. At 11:00 this one. 12:00 will be lunch. She realized she could fill each program with a corresponding event from her earlier days. Then she came to grips with the irony of the situation. Her ‘life’ was on a 24-hour repeat. It filled every moment of every day. Not one moment was available for self-reflection. Not one moment for quiet, peace or dreaming. Not one moment for self-discovery of who that over-paying passenger was. Not one.

She closed her eyes softly and thought about the trail at the lake that beckoned her every time she was there, but she never took the time to discover it. As her breathing slowed, for the first time she thought about who she REALLY was. She came into contact with that part of herself that never changes, her real identity. It told her of how it prayed for emancipation. It so wanted to be borne, and grow, and blossom and evolve into a masterpiece. Instead, it was never even realized until the last day. A whole new infinite world wanted to emerge, but remained buried because she never saw the stop called ‘Mommy’. Out of all the possible stops we all have, only the one with your name on it is a stop where you have to get off the train. The Conductor knows all about these stops.

As almost everyone does, Mommy left discovery to the last day. A life of infinite possibilities and bliss exchanged for a twenty-five stop train route.

For those who have a few more moments left, you can be responsible for the creation of your own stop, just like Mommy should have. A stop unlike anything else in this world. A stop of purity, bewilderment, passion and love. A stop untouched by earthly concerns. A stop of unbounded potential. A stop, in the Infinite. A stop that would have changed Jason’s life, too.

When your stop is created and you visit it for the first time, the Conductor will welcome you whole-heartedly as he knows the value of this creation. With each visit the Conductor will adjust the schedule so the train will be ready to board when you are. And each time, when you are finished and ready to leave, the Conductor will be there to help you get back on the train – or watch you turn – and walk away.

Published by Kumi

Liaison to the Infinite.

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