My Friend, the Train
Or, How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Train
I'm finally settling into some decent rhythms here in Montana, where we're spending the summer, and if I wasn't writing a book, I would write a longform essay on "How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Train."
For context, Helena, Montana has trains passing through it at all times of the day and those train horns are LOUD...HOOOOORN HOOOOORN HOOT HOOOOORN...Sound carries right up the hill. For miles. It's been driving me absolutely bonkers. If you think I'm a good-natured guy, it's a good thing you haven't been around me at my most stressed out moments when fresh train blasts echo through my body.
Literally, infrasound waves from train horns penetrate the body and are felt within. Unfortunately, my body had developed an association with each new surprise train blast where it would tense up in the lower center of my chest, right at the solar plexus and two inches down.
But one recent night at 3am, I lay awake and made a vow to myself. I said, "Nick, no matter what, you are going to sit in a meditation pose with your eyes closed facing the train for two hours tomorrow, no exceptions!!!" And if you know anything about me, you know I like a good phrase or acronym, so I called this No Escape Training, or NET for short.
Suddenly, I couldn't wait for tomorrow. Face to face with the train. Just me and its billowing blasts against my broadside. "Tomorrow, I'm going to let the train in," I said. "And I'm going to rewire my response to it." My mindset was to see how quickly I could transform a new series of blasts from annoyance into acceptance, and from acceptance into appreciation.
The next day, at noon, I started. Two hours...what was I thinking?! It was hard on the body, but much harder on the mind. I had nowhere to run. No phone to grab. No distraction from anything. "Bring on the pain. The pain will set you free. This is a fast-acting form of rewiring my reward system." I cooked up all sorts of angles for continued motivation.
And you know what happened?
It worked.
I've rewired the way I interact with the train. Now, when I hear a new set of blasts, it's a check-in. How annoyed am I? How quickly can I go from annoyance to acceptance? And can I get to appreciation? Because the truth of the train is that my reactions to its blasts are a snapshot in time of my stress and anxiety levels. Now, thanks to the train, I'm reminded of when I need to take care of myself, maybe by getting some exercises, or journaling, or just by practicing gratitude.
And just like that, my mortal enemy for the past two months has now become my good friend.
My friend, the train.
Just when I think I know you well enough that there will no major surprises, you do it again. What a brilliant idea, Nick. Now I'm wishing that I actually heard the trains in my community. They aren't as frequent as yours and have become background for me. Most of the time I don't even notice them. What a great idea to use them as a check-in. But two hours? Kill me now.
When I was an exchange student to Switzerland for the 1989-1990 school year, my host dad worked in the central office for the SBB (Swiss Federal Railways). The train system was such a part of his life and their family's life that their home was DIRECTLY NEXT TO a very active train line. So, imagine yourself as an 18 year old, awakened in the middle of his first night in Switzerland by the need to use the restroom, getting seated upon the commode, and then hearing a train bearing down... That will wake you right up.
No horns though, so I empathize.