A Beam of Light

I travelled the city on a network of steel yesterday. I rode above the city streets, and then down below street level into the belly of the beast. I hopped from Purple, to Red, to Blue; each train with it's own distinctive character, it's own tempo. If you travel on a late summer afternoon, you notice the way the sun illuminates the train tracks, the train looks like it's travelling on a beam of light. Underground the roar of the train echoes in the tunnel and in your ears, the steel on steel roar so loud, conversation is impossible. I sat in silence, meditating, once in awhile opening my eyes, seeing new passengers enter and exit. It's amazing to be moving at a high rate of speed, and at the same time, to be sitting perfectly still. Amazing and perfectly routine. Rising from the depths, flying into the dazzling light once again, we skimmed along city blocks. I thought of "living lightly," being able to let it all come and go, "as it is," living as simply as riding the rails on a late summer afternoon.