The wind that wakes us

I’m buried. I look up and I can’t see the sky… just darkness. I’ve been down here a while, and I’m losing track of time. I don’t know when I’ll see daylight. The sooner the better. I’m surrounded by others who share my predicament. You’d think that we’d find some sort of camaraderie, that there would be a sense of fellowship among us, but that’s not the case. Each of us is choosing to individually bear the weight of his or her section of earth. Alone.

I’m sitting on a subway platform. I’m wearing headphones, and although there is music in my ears I can barely hear it. I’m distracted, as I watch what seems to be an uncountable number of people around me. Because I appear to be disconnected, I can look around and it’s safe. The people around me – almost without exception – are avoiding eye contact, avoiding contact of any kind, shutting out their surroundings. Intentionally, I think. It seems that almost all of us are wearing headphones. Several are actually wearing noise canceling headphones, the very image of which is sending a message: I wish to be isolated. I can’t hear you. Please leave me alone.

I can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside the heads of my fellow commuters. It’s easy to imagine that they’re in some sort of trance. I begin to wonder where they came from, where they’re going. Once we leave this place, we’re going to wind up scattered all over the city. Right now, the one thing we have in common is the fact that we’re not there yet.

The crowd down here can be divided into 2 categories.

1. Those who stand at the very edge of the platform, watching. Within that group, the reasoning for the positioning seems to boil down to one of two things:

• We’re looking for an advantage of some kind. Looking to outmaneuver, outdo, outperform. We want the best seat, or any seat for that matter. And our chances are significantly improved if we get on first. So we wait on the edge of the platform, watching.

• The very fact that we’re down here is difficult for us to come to grips with. Keeping our eye on the track keeps us from losing control.

2. (The bulk of us) are those who are just waiting.

Sitting. Standing. Trying desperately to keep distance from those near us. If not physically, then emotionally. Nothing is really capable of getting the attention of this crowd. There is silence. We sit, in a trance.

And then, something happens. The slightest breeze drifts out of the tunnel. A harbinger of what is coming. Quiet and gentle at first. Stronger then, turning into gusts of wind that cannot be ignored. And automatically, invariably, every head on the platform turns, every eye looks up.

In that moment, my mind drifts far away and hours ahead. The same crowd of people is scattered through the city. We seem to be waiting for something. Walking, sitting, standing, trying desperately to keep distance from those near us. If not physically, then emotionally.  Nothing capable of getting our attention. In the midst of noise, silence. Living life in a trance.

And then, something happens. The slightest breeze, invisible, a harbinger of What is coming. Quiet and gentle at first. Stronger then, turning into gusts of wind that cannot be ignored.

I am drawn back to the moment, and find my heart beating faster. All around me, the platform is alive with the reactions of those responding to the wind. And I realize that it is time to choose.

We are living life on the platform. Buried in the earth, isolated and alone. Watching. Doing. Worrying. Waiting. Most of us don’t know what for.

Which passenger am I?

As I sit in silence, I realize who I desire to be. I take my headphones off, and stand up. My eyes grow clear as I make my choice.

I am not the Watcher.

I am not the Doer.

I am not the Worrier.

I am not the Waiter.

I am the breeze. The wind that wakes you. The harbinger of What is coming. Please do not ignore me. Turn your head. Look up.

Where are you going?

© Joshua Dufek, 2012