Under a Commuter Train – Literally, Figuratively

Jeremy Main, a friend of mine for over 10 years, and I went canoeing on
a vlei (shallow lake) this evening. It was one of those perfect summer days in
Cape Town – hot sun on the face – cool wind on the skin – light rippling off
the ridges of baby waves – the taste of brine – the clean smell of rot; rather
difficult to explain, but once you've smelled it, you remember it when you
smell it again. Jeremy told me the technical name of the gas that is released
when matter disintegrates. I don't recall the name. He's a smart dude, and he's
smart in all the important ways as well.

 As we were paddling across the vlei, we went down a water
channel which had a train track over it – about 5 or 6 feet above the water.
Just as we got to the track, and whlle we were directly under the track, a
communter train passed overhead. The sound of which consumed all other sounds
… and all other sensory input. I couldn't help it, I ducked, paddled
obsesssively, all the time still ducking – inwardly laughing at myself, totally
incapable of responding any differently. 

Jeremy, the King of Calm, didn't even chuckle (or covered it
well).

That experience is an outward and obvious reflection of the
inward and obscure episodes I experience every day – seeing a kajillion emails
in my inbox, feeling desperate; hearing a song popular when I was in high
school, bursting into tears; smelling liver cooking, roiling stomach – and on
it goes. Logically, none of those stimuli warrant my reaction. Seemingly
without my volition, my body overrides my logical mind.

On the one hand, yes – when self preservation is the number
one priority. On the other hand, no – when, for some ancient reason, that
override robs me of right-action. 

If I were to re-program that experience – a 're-do' – I would
Imagine myself being still – letting the sound of the train go through me –
absorbing the power inherent in that moment. Instead of being senselessly
fearful, I would embrace the Now. 

PS  And I still
got to enjoy hanging out with Jeremy in a waterscape, lush with life/death.