I have always believed that when a train stops you, it is meant to be.
Today, as I was buzzing around delivering packages to friends’ front porches, a train crossing lowered and as I braked, I realized the train was slowing down to a stop.
A friend called as this was happening and her questions were met with a distracted, irritated tone in my voice as my frustration increased.
I remembered my belief to be present but I really wanted to get home. I have been running around a lot today, and I wanted to sit and just be still.
That’s when I realize: I am sitting still. I thought about how it’s possible that the length of time I am here will put me on new timing and coordination with what is to come this afternoon.
I notice the train car in front of me: “Canadian Pacific” and see the maple leaf… I text my husband a pic… we love the Canadian Pacific. We crave it, actually.
So I could sit here and soak. It’s been ten minutes already. But as much as I believe that when you’re stopped in your tracks, it’s a place for you to be. I also believe that little pulse in your belly tells you when it’s time.
And just as I wrap this post to turn the car around, the trains starts creeping freely back. I smile at the timing of the moment. As I write, the train is now moving (opposite its original direction, mind you) and I feel the full circle validation only patience and attention can lend you.
Forgive my typos. :)
Frozen Spaghetti 