And honestly, I think I would rather ride on a train than drive a car. There’s an element of adventure and wonder and re-creation that comes with riding on a train, that I just don’t get when driving my car. In fact I think one of the coolest journeys I’ve ever taken was between Anchorage and Steward in Alasksa on the train. I felt like I was in some epic movie. It was larger than life.
Interestingly enough, I’ve spent a good bit of time in the last day or so, talking about trains and the story they tell of our lives.
Trains that we wish would pull into the station so we could get off. Trains that seem to keep on "full steam ahead" when we’re barely hanging on to the last caboose. The hills we climb, with our engine barely breathing, "I think I can. I think I can." The vistas from the window. The goodbyes at the station. The welcome at the other end. The fog on the mountain and the darkness of the tunnels.
But what got me started this week on trains was actually the tracks though. the tracks that are necessary for movement, for the life of the train. The tracks that mark the parallel poise of beauty and pain; of love and loss; of joy and tears. Both of which we ride upon, above and in between. Both of which are essential to get where we’re going. We may lean upon one rail or the other at various times but we’re stuck (literally and figuratively) when we try to leave one aside.
Job says that the "world is our classroom." If only we’d pay attention. My goodness, I’ve got so much more to learn…. hah! And Joey, has so much more to teach me about the fantastic world of trains.