People watching on the subway.
Faces flashing in front of your eyes like the subway walls and tunnel lights in the train window. Lips, noses, body types so remarkably different, fascinating and captivating. Catching side glances. Subtle smiles.
It’s easy and natural, becoming numb to the variety of people that swarm and swirl around us each day. Especially in Toronto.
And then suddenly…
Blue eyes that shock to the core when catching their gaze. Skin tones that rival the multitudinous selection at David’s Tea.
Faces with lines creased gently in the skin. Each line a story. Each wrinkle a memory.
The frayed cuffs of the homeless man. The crisp collar of the business man. Both beings standing side by side. Dignities equal, postures tall and proud.
The head bobber. You know the one. The night shift worker giving into the lull and sway of the train as it floats over the tracks.
Seeing ‘celebrity look-a-likes’. It must have been Alan Arkin on the train ride that one time. Almost telling him how much you loved him in Little Miss Sunshine.
Fascinating face shapes that rival the most creative images you could ever hope to conjure. Turned up noses, big eyes, strong chins, soft jawlines, a myriad of hairstyles.
A feast for the eyes. An escape for the mind; imagining the lives attached to those innumerable, beautiful bodies.
Snippets of overheard conversation. Resisting the urge to read over a stranger’s shoulder the text they are sending to a loved one.
The person who stands and offers their seat to another. The person who spreads their legs a wee bit too wide, who’s knee you “gently” nudge with your own.
If we are to ride with strangers, let them become familiar in the mind. Let them become human, relatable, observable, enjoyable.
When you take a little ride on the subway – feel the big shift a curious, compassionate glance around you can induce.
Next stop – peace of mind.
