A Train of Thought
My thoughts often spill, fanning out in many directions. It seems as if I should be able to tack them down, to sew them to the hem, to figure out the proper sequence of self expression so as to transform “ordinary” into something that I’d be proud enough to serve as a main dish.
In the past when I’ve faced such uncertainty, I’ve considered packing a small bag and locating a remote spot along the tracks to where the freight train pauses long enough to jump on board. There has been much reckoning about where fate might carry me if I did.
That particular fantasy has occurred as a release valve many times throughout my life. When my teenaged children were testing their boundaries, when an intimidating boss set unrealistic demands…or when there was a tree that had fallen onto our roof during the worst of storms.
I would never recommend anyone break the law and jump on board a freight train, but on occasion, it brings me great comfort to just imagine. Escape, however I saw it, however I wrote it…good fortune, hard knocks, the roll of the dice while click, click, clicking my keyboard…was a much needed pause from reality.
What would I pack? No electronics…nope, not a one. A sketch pad, my journal, money, jewelry to pawn if need be; my favorite book, toothpaste/toothbrush, breakfast bars, water, drawing pencils, a flashlight ...my camera with a 300mm zoom lens for those interesting pictures that I’d be certain to find somewhere off the beaten path. Oh wait, does my digital camera go against the no electronics rule? Well, maybe that item should be allowed after all.
One consideration though; the train must be headed in a southerly direction…towards warmth and good weather…to enable me to see the great expanse of stars overhead at night and allow me to dip my toes into the ocean mid winter. By just speaking about it, I feel the de-cluttering of my mind all ready. I feel the lifting of stress, the abandonment of responsibility.
I can breathe, I can think, I can imagine…except what I didn’t notice at first when jumping on board; the floor of the train is filthy…and as much as I’d like to ignore it, I smell something foul. I never considered that rotten would be transported in that boxcar right along with me. I can breathe, but do I really want to? I didn’t think to pack a clothes pin or a can of air freshener. Oh the frustration!
The train is moving faster now and I’m in for a bumpy ride. Are there shocks on this thing? It feels rather chilly and my stomach is turning in circles. The movement, the nasty smell, the noise, the filth…I’m whining now. I sound like my kids when they were little… “Mom, are we there yet?”
What about the thrill of adventure? What about the chance at landing somewhere peaceful and exotic?
Was there ever something you always wanted to try and then when it happened, you wondered, “What was I thinking?” This must be one of those occasions.
It’s official, I’ve changed my mind. I want to go home now…except the train is gaining momentum and traveling in the wrong direction. The cityscape has transformed into many rows of corn ready for harvest. I’m at the center of farm country. This is not my idea of bettering my situation. Mind you all of the original stress has lifted, but has now been replaced with a whole new kind of worry. I imagine I’ll be caught at the end of the line and be placed into custody. I just know that this journey will not end well. There are no “free rides” and I’ll have to make it right. For as much as I wanted to avoid it, responsibility haunts me even while penning this blog.
The great thing about running away from home with words or imagining without actually going anywhere is that I can simply close the screen and take a walk with my dog Monkeyshine. I think I’ll do that now and if I hear a freight train approach and you happen to be driving down Main Street, I’m guessing you’ll recognize me right off. I’ll be the frazzled lady with her wiry haired pooch running scared in the opposite direction of the approaching train. You’ll know the train too…it’s the one that seems to be heading nowhere fast.
In the past when I’ve faced such uncertainty, I’ve considered packing a small bag and locating a remote spot along the tracks to where the freight train pauses long enough to jump on board. There has been much reckoning about where fate might carry me if I did.
That particular fantasy has occurred as a release valve many times throughout my life. When my teenaged children were testing their boundaries, when an intimidating boss set unrealistic demands…or when there was a tree that had fallen onto our roof during the worst of storms.
I would never recommend anyone break the law and jump on board a freight train, but on occasion, it brings me great comfort to just imagine. Escape, however I saw it, however I wrote it…good fortune, hard knocks, the roll of the dice while click, click, clicking my keyboard…was a much needed pause from reality.
What would I pack? No electronics…nope, not a one. A sketch pad, my journal, money, jewelry to pawn if need be; my favorite book, toothpaste/toothbrush, breakfast bars, water, drawing pencils, a flashlight ...my camera with a 300mm zoom lens for those interesting pictures that I’d be certain to find somewhere off the beaten path. Oh wait, does my digital camera go against the no electronics rule? Well, maybe that item should be allowed after all.
One consideration though; the train must be headed in a southerly direction…towards warmth and good weather…to enable me to see the great expanse of stars overhead at night and allow me to dip my toes into the ocean mid winter. By just speaking about it, I feel the de-cluttering of my mind all ready. I feel the lifting of stress, the abandonment of responsibility.
I can breathe, I can think, I can imagine…except what I didn’t notice at first when jumping on board; the floor of the train is filthy…and as much as I’d like to ignore it, I smell something foul. I never considered that rotten would be transported in that boxcar right along with me. I can breathe, but do I really want to? I didn’t think to pack a clothes pin or a can of air freshener. Oh the frustration!
The train is moving faster now and I’m in for a bumpy ride. Are there shocks on this thing? It feels rather chilly and my stomach is turning in circles. The movement, the nasty smell, the noise, the filth…I’m whining now. I sound like my kids when they were little… “Mom, are we there yet?”
What about the thrill of adventure? What about the chance at landing somewhere peaceful and exotic?
Was there ever something you always wanted to try and then when it happened, you wondered, “What was I thinking?” This must be one of those occasions.
It’s official, I’ve changed my mind. I want to go home now…except the train is gaining momentum and traveling in the wrong direction. The cityscape has transformed into many rows of corn ready for harvest. I’m at the center of farm country. This is not my idea of bettering my situation. Mind you all of the original stress has lifted, but has now been replaced with a whole new kind of worry. I imagine I’ll be caught at the end of the line and be placed into custody. I just know that this journey will not end well. There are no “free rides” and I’ll have to make it right. For as much as I wanted to avoid it, responsibility haunts me even while penning this blog.
The great thing about running away from home with words or imagining without actually going anywhere is that I can simply close the screen and take a walk with my dog Monkeyshine. I think I’ll do that now and if I hear a freight train approach and you happen to be driving down Main Street, I’m guessing you’ll recognize me right off. I’ll be the frazzled lady with her wiry haired pooch running scared in the opposite direction of the approaching train. You’ll know the train too…it’s the one that seems to be heading nowhere fast.
No comments have been added yet.
