Elizabeths on a Train: Vulnerability

In October 2015, my friend Elizabeth and I went on a cross-country writing train trip from Montreal to Los Angeles in five days. Here are some stories, insights and musings that came from that adventure.

Trains feel dangerous at night. A thunderstorm underneath you. Rails screaming. Whistles whispering. When other trains go by they feel centimeters away and the sound takes you to another dimension. The speed is disconcerting. You wonder if the conductor feels as tired as you do. Thoughts of derailment are very present. It reminds me of the time in college I had fallen asleep in the backseat of a van while my coach was driving us back from a speech tournament. I woke up to white out conditions. All I saw was snow and couldn’t help but think; What if we are crashing, tumbling down the mountain and I just haven’t felt the impact yet? What if sleep was still cradling me? 
 My first night on the train these thoughts kept waking me. AND what if we derail and no one can find my hard drive?? But finally I was too tired and I relaxed into the rhythm of the rails.
At night on the train you have to become completely vulnerable and give in to sleep, while a machine barrels you down man-made tracks or when at ten pm the train completely powers down in the middle of no where, the light from inside the train makes it impossible to see out, and we are pretty sure Dementors are boarding.
I don't know how to do a Patronus! Help!

Vulnerability is imperative when it comes to writing. Writing with walls up does not work. In fact I’m not sure why you would even want to write that way. Writing is the place I can be completely open with no reservations. When I feel stuck, most of the time I realize it's because I'm holding back. Once I allow myself to be susceptible to the muse, the barriers fall.
Montreal

The whole trip was a lesson in vulnerability and not being scared of that vulnerability. The night before my flight to Montreal I realized I had never flown to a foreign country before or to a place where English is not the first language. Even the Air Canada gates at LAX felt someplace I didn’t belong. Very fancy, clean, French over the PA, and they even have a Spanx store at your disposal. (If THAT doesn't say fancy I don't know what does. Maybe I should get some Spanx for Montreal so I don't offend the nation.) As I flew away from my LA homeland the landscape looked like an alien planet from above. Everything reminded me of the fact that I was facing the unknown. What business do I have going to Montreal? I thought ridiculously. But I embraced the fear and talked to people. When my travel mate was delayed I did not hide in the hotel room. I explored the city on foot and found beauty in the French street signs and beautiful buildings and my ears got cold for the first time in a long time in actual fall weather which was pretty nice.
Sunrise over Ohio


As with train riding, in writing if you let yourself be vulnerable, you wake and the sunrise is gorgeous. It is a secret ingredient to writing magic.

To see the "other" Elizabeth's posts about our trip visit her  website.