A Distance Train Approaching

 

There is no train. There are no tracks.  All there is is the fear of what may be heading towards me, along with the certainty of not knowing how to get out of its way. The train is simply a metaphor; the reality of my situation is not.  The idea of the train came from something a friend once told me,  "I've never seen a person get hit by a train they saw coming a mile away." It was his way of saying that problems are easily avoided if you see them coming.   Yet, here I am, standing on the tracks, frozen in place, while a train in the distance is approaching.

            A part of me wonders if I simply gave up. Perhaps I no longer see the point of moving out of the way. Maybe I feel that another train is further down the tracks, and if I get out of the way for one, the other will surely end me.   Or maybe, just maybe, I welcome the train as it’s a means to start over. Forcing myself into a situation, I see no other way out, which is a risk that could lead me to a hardship I have yet to encounter.

I’ve heard the expression “rock bottom,” but until now, or until the “train” passes, I’ve never been in such a dire situation. Yet a part of me feels they are necessities in life. They wake you up and test your courage, strength, and character. I am also not one to be found in a bar drinking my problems away; I’d rather stand on the tracks and face my problems head-on.

For most of my life, I’ve drifted in the direction the wind blew, never really challenging or questioning anything; I just went with the flow. I’ve never been in a fight over something I believed in, never stood up for a cause, or wandered the streets looking for salvation. I envy those who have because, along the way, they found themselves. Not all of them, as some got lost along the way, but some of them.  

My dilemma is: If an opportunity to get out of the way presents itself, should I take it? Or should I stay grounded on the tracks, risking my future by testing my courage, strength, and character?  

When the time arose, I did not choose the latter. Instead, I played it safe with a bit of resistance.  I don’t think I’m the kind of person who would come out stronger; I fear I would be the kind of person who would break, give up, and take shelter behind the covers.  Perhaps I’m wrong, but I am not brave enough to find out, or perhaps I’m just smart enough to get the hell out of the way of an oncoming train.