January is the cruelest month. Gone are the days when we could go to sleep at four in the morning without worrying about being late for school, and wake up in the afternoon carelessly for “brunch.” Gone are the nights when we could gorge ourselves with food and delicacies without holding back (because our bodies deserve to be pampered—when else can we so easily make up an excuse to <not> go on a diet?) Now we have to resume our usual routines (or try to), and continue where we have left off. Some people feel optimistic, hopeful, and ambitious; some grimace with dread, and long for the holidays to come back. As the winter holidays leave us, so does the warm weather.
[pullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””] This week, nature finally enacted its revenge on us as we said goodbye to our grandmother’s roasted bird and Christmas music, and said hello to snow and mucky slush. [/pullquote]
When I began the second semester on Tuesday, I did not expect the long commute to school. As a person who stresses about tiny and ridiculous things, I nearly had a panic attack when I thought I was going to be late for class. The bus took forever, and the subway ride was only slightly better; everywhere was packed with commuters who were just as desperate as I was to reach their destinations. With the majority of the passengers donning puffy black clothing and grim and weary expressions (myself included), the crowded experience was suffocating and dull. We looked like depressed crows, growing with resentment, waiting to fly out of the door. As I speed-walked to the next platform, pushing through the bustle of human flow, I wondered why we were hurrying so much.
Compared to our parents’ generation, we are living in a more technologically advanced society. Therefore, it’s no surprise that as part of a younger generation, we make more habitual use of technology. With just a swift click through our phones and laptops, we can immerse ourselves in the digital world of social media. As tiny devices distract us, we begin to lose interest in all of our surroundings. There may not be anything interesting to look around at on the TTC, but it doesn’t excuse the fact that we have lost the motivation to physically interact and communicate with each other in public spaces.
If you take care to observe your surroundings, there are interesting experiences for you to encounter. For instance, I never realised that walking a blind man to the platform at Eglinton station would begin a conversation about the struggles of finding work. Or that the gruff man with a red windbreaker, waiting next to me, was in fact a painter who was battling with alcohol addiction. And I’m glad to have noticed the moving sight of a young man and his toddler son, wearing matching pants and sitting across from me. The child’s pale golden curls lit up as he looked out the window in wonder.
So here’s a start: stop hurrying on your commute and pay a little more attention to your surroundings. Take in the sights and appreciate the little things—an open seat on the train, the song of a station musician. Because it’s those small discoveries that can improve our commuting experiences, and as a result, open our eyes to the world a little more.