My Two-Cents: The Station
My dad cleaned out his work desk the other day (which I’m assuming was for the first time in the past 20 years) and gave me a poem he found that my Grandpa had given him.
The Station
By Robert J. Hastings
Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent. We’re traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall.
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But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. There will be bands playing, and flags waving. And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true. So many wishes will be fulfilled and so many pieces of our lives finally will be neatly fitted together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering … waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station.
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However, sooner or later we must realize there is no one station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
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“When we reach the station that will be it!” we cry. Translated it means, “When I’m 18, that will be it! When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz, that will be it! When I put the last kid through college, that will be it! When I have paid off the mortgage, that will be it! When I win a promotion, that will be it! When I reach the age of retirement, that will be it! I shall live happily ever after!”
Unfortunately, once we get it, then it disappears. The station somehow hides itself at the end of an endless track.
“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. Rather, it is regret over yesterday or fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today.
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So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot oftener, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less.
Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
I love this poem. It’s so hard not to think next, next, next. In today’s world, we are programmed to reach for the next thing constantly. Scrolling and swiping for the next image and video is the norm, not the exception. My econ class discussed the problems our generation will see revolving around shortening attention spans and the long-term effects of social media – and my professor thought the biggest villain we’ll soon face isn’t the attention span dilemma, but rather the unintended consequence of being a generation programed by next, next, next. There is a lot of hard truth in this. It’s hard not to think about the next thing when I sometimes even find it difficult not to skip a song halfway through. It’s hard not to presume everything will be solved once I get to the next thing. Once I arrive at the station. But the station will always outdistance us – and there will always be a next that attempts to distract us from the current. That’s why I think it’s important to attempt every once in a while to slow down – to realize the joy is in the journey! Because if we're not careful, we can miss it.
I was talking with my friend the other day who is currently in the stressful process of applying to grad schools – a place I found myself in a year ago. I told her that in a weird way, I kind of miss where she’s at. Though it was stressful and nail-biting for me at the time, I look back on it with rose-tinted glasses. I think of all the excitement of the unknown and the opportunity that surrounded me as a passenger on the train she is now riding. No matter how hard we try, we will never reach the station. You can't reach something that doesn't exist. Reminding myself of this makes me remember how important it is to look out the window and enjoy the ride!
