train in vain

A late New York night, Evie and I peered down the empty subway tunnel pondering when the next local 1 train would finally take us downtown. We had been anxiously waiting for some time and I was getting quite concerned. I wasn't up for the walk, and having already paid our fare, hailing a cab was not in my vocabulary. We would just have to be patient for our savior to come. Every noise brought hopeful anticipation but ultimate disappointment. The slightest rustle of a lone rat on the tracks below, the ker-plunk of the turnstile echoing the arrival of a solitary traveler, or the stertor* of a vagrant asleep on the single pew beside us, ignited our senses that our destiny would soon be fulfilled. But no light was coming our way. Would it ever come? Could we be saved from this underground hell before I fell asleep? My watchful doubt was lifted when the faint rumbling of wheels steeled on track was discerned. It was but a deadheading train collecting trash that clambered by without stop. Oh, when would our time come?

In "Everyday Zen," Charlotte Joko Beck relates a story about a man who waits for the E train to enlightenment. Just like Evie and myself, he waited a long time. Others soon joined him on the platform and all were waiting for something. Something that would take them where they wanted to go. Mostly, we are waiting for our hopes in dreams: In things that we think we need. Although good in themselves, they inevitably fail to deliver what we're truly seeking. The obscene lines for urgent Black Friday shopping are signs of this perverted hope. The fragile reliance on the temporal future will only leave us waiting in vain.

This waiting is a denial of the present. When we are unaware of the power of our attachments and aversions, we have fallen asleep and have missed the train. That's why Jesus tells us to "Keep awake - for you do not know when the [train] will come." Today is the arrival of Advent which announces the good news that the train is coming, has come, and will come again. We must wake up and realize that there is no need to wait. We are already on the train and have been since the beginning. Joko Beck concludes her parable by saying *that there is no train. There's nothing to catch, nothing to wait for, and nowhere to go. In other words, we have arrived.

After some time Evie turned to me with an enlightenment. "It's in the wind," she said, "You'll know it when you feel it." Even before you hear a sound you'll know it's coming. We stopped our waiting and took off on our journey.

love, always,

pia

* Today's "word of the day" at Thesaurus.com meaning a heavy snoring sound.