Rush Hour

Pennsylvania Station, New York City

I was standing in Penn Station chillin in a corner near that ugly Starbucks by the E train. I’d found a little spot out of the way, connected to their WiFi, and queued up my music while I waited for the Port Washington-bound LIRR.

It was a rainy Monday morning the kind every commuter dreads. At least it was mine when worked in the city. Dripping umbrellas and puddles of water trailed every moving body. The city felt heavy and sad.

I’ve always been a people watcher, and that day, I just stood there… observing. Faces zooming past. No smiles. Just focus and fast-moving feet. Everyone looked like they were somewhere else in their minds.

In that moment, it felt like the world was passing me by. I stood still happily rocking my bright red lipstick and all, but surrounded by frowns and frustrations.

I started wondering: Where are they all headed? Are they okay? Are they happy, sad, or depressed? Did they eat breakfast?

Then a man approached me, asking for money to buy coffee. Without hesitation, I handed him $5. He looked at the bill, then asked for $10. I gently said no. He waved me off, annoyed, and walked away.

At first, I was frustrated. But then… I took a breath and gave thanks. Thankful that I had compassion. Thankful that I could help even if it wasn’t enough for him. Thankful that I could pause and see people, even when the world felt rushed and indifferent.

Moral of the story? The world will always keep moving. Tune into yourself anyway. Be kind to others and to yourself.