Why Life is like a Journey on a Train

and the mystery of not knowing at which station we get off

…with its stations …with changes of routes …with accidents. Life is like a journey on a train.

Meeting halfway

The other day, not so long ago, I boarded a clean, polished train from my station in Tokyo's outskirts and headed north. My good friend Hiroko did the same, except that her route sent her south. Strategically chosen, the station where we met was exactly halfway from where the two of us live.

As soon as we spotted each other, we hugged and linked arms at the elbows, and dodging the mobs of commuters, we found our way to a quaint little restaurant that lived two floors under the train tracks. There we spent a couple of hours, giddy and greedily updating each other on things that had transpired in our lives since we’d seen each other last.

When we emerged from our soiree nook nearly two and a half hours later, we felt enlivened, replete and happy, vowing to get together much sooner the next time.

Retracing our steps

Reeling in merriment still, we found ourselves just where we had first linked arms but this time found the crowd somewhat irritating, too in-our-faces; inconvenienced and tired.

Anticipating delays, I felt infuriated. This setback would deprive me of what’s left of my evening with my family, impose on my sleep and carry over to the next day. I was sure. I didn’t like it; no, not one little bit! What an imposition!

From the atmosphere and whispers, we soon learned that while Hiroko and I dined and conversed, people, good people, had lost their lives in one of the worst accidents the station had ever seen.

I felt as if I’d been swallowed whole. I felt dizzy.

And in that moment my shoulders shrunk, ashamed, remorseful.

It was then that I remembered a poem I had read a couple of years before. Today I searched for the poem to give credit to the author but found the author to be an unknown. Check for yourself:

Google offered me other links to the same poem, and in every one of them, the story about the author was the same. It’s a pity I cannot give credit where credit is due, but I was hoping you could read it in its entirety. I hope the wisdom in it speaks to you the way it spoke to me. I think it will.

Life is like a journey on a train…with its stations…with changes of routes…and with accidents!

At birth we boarded the train and met our parents, and we believe they will always travel on our side. However, at some station our parents will step down from the train, leaving us on this journey alone.

As time goes by, other people will board the train; and they will be significant i.e. Our siblings, friends, children, and even the love of our life. Many will step down and leave a permanent vacuum. Others will go so unnoticed that we don’t realize that they vacated their seats!

This train ride will be full of joy, sorrow, fantasy, expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells.

Success consists of having a good relationship with all passengers…requiring that we give the best of ourselves.

The mystery to everyone is: We do not know at which station we ourselves will step down. So, we must live in the best way — love, forgive, and offer the best of who we are. It is important to do this because when the time comes for us to step down and leave our seat empty — we should leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life.

I wish you a joyful journey for the coming year on the train of life. Reap success and give lots of love.

More importantly, thank God for the journey!

Lastly, I thank you for being one of the passengers on my train!

– — Author Unknown.

THANKS FOR READING. I ALSO BORROW FROM THE POEM: THANKS FOR BEING ONE OF THE PASSENGERS ON MY TRAIN. I Wish You Miracles, Selma.