The Rat Race

In case you were wondering about the title of my last post “the way of walking” that particular title is the best possible definition I found for halacha or the Oral law. It’s a somewhat subtle reference to people finding their own way in this world regardless of where it takes them. It has its on flaws which I accept but is none the less an important idea to me.

Today I want to talk about the rat race its never more apparent then during the commute to work. Let me lay it out for you. Every morning I wake up before the sunrises, I shower, pray, eat and drive to the train station. At the train station I wait it line with all the other people on their way into the city, we all file orderly onto the train and I sit down and promptly fall asleep. Upon arrival into New York everyone files orderly off the train, up the stairs and to the subway. I wait quietly listening to music or reading a book, the train comes and we all pile on. I get off and walk to work. That’s the summary of my commute. It is never more apparent to me then in that time of the ultimate futility of my actions I do feel like a rat running through a maze for a piece of cheese. But you know what? That’s okay, that’s life and we all do what we have to do in order to make it in this world and right now a long and tiring commute is part of the equation.

It can be a weird experience you see many of the same people every single day, those people who are operating on the same schedule as you. For instance I see this one girl almost everyday. I’ve seen her enough times that I could describe her in detail, the black peat coat and the pink scarf she wears everyday, the two bags she is always carrying. I even know that she has a cup of coffee everyday. And yet I’ve never spoken to her, never acknowledged her existence. It’s strange I want to say hello sometimes just because I feel like I should, after all I feel like I know her she is a familiar face in my life and who knows maybe we could be friends.

Not to that I care not that it really affects my daily life but still it’s something I think about all those people we pass everyday. Everyone has a story, and I hardly know any of them I see this girl everyday we’ve stood next to each other on the subway in the morning at least ten or fifteen times in the last month. It just strikes me as strange I know this may sound slightly stalker-ish but this interaction between us got me thinking this morning about all of our own untold stories. Once again be safe, eat some delicious turkey, watch some football, whatever tickles you’re fancy and have a great turkey day.