I used to walk to the train.
No music, no podcast. I just walked, chin up, looking around.
This was before the pandemic, before the masks and everything else.
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I used to tap my train card on the turnstyle sensor until the light turned green. Then I pushed through the metal and went up the stairs to the elevated tracks. There were people up there, sometimes hundreds of people. We were all going to work.
I pushed through the crowd, too: “Excuse me… ope, sorry, sorry about that… excuse me… ope, sorry… thank you, thanks… sorry, sorry about that.”
I pushed through to the back of the platform, where it was more open, calmer. I’d wait there. Sometimes I took out my phone but this was rare.
Usually I just stood there, leaning on the railing, people-watching, thinking.
My brain wandered. I let it:
I thought about my next meeting. I thought about food. I thought about a recent argument, replaying it, fantasizing about what I should’ve said. I thought about where I’d land if I tried to jump the tracks. I thought about the third rail, about losing a limb. I thought about how cold it was. Or how hot it was. Or how nice it was. I thought about my wife.
And when I got to work, I began writing almost immediately. And it made me resent the commute, the wasted time, the gray time, the nothing time. Downtime.
I thought getting this time back would make me happier, more productive.
Then work told us to stay home. And my commute went away. And so did the gray time, the nothing time.
After the pandemic hit, I got up, washed my face, poured my coffee, and got to work. And for a while, inexplicably, I struggled: I sat at my desk and cursed the cursor, rubbing my eyes and scratching my neck, exhaling.
I didn’t write.
“Go for a walk,” Kelsey said. “Leave your phone.”
“Oh-kay,” I said. I grabbed my coat and walked to the train station. It was closed, so I looked around and found a bench and sat down.
I just sat there, leaning back, people-watching, thinking.
My brain wandered. I let it.
Then I walked home. And I sat down. And, inexplicably, I began to write.
Indeed, something good happens when you let your brain wander.
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