Feeling tired, I was headed home after a long day at work.  On the subway platform, I waited and watched as all kinds of trains passed by–all except the one that I needed.  Even the garbage train honked noisily through the station.  My train was nowhere in sight. 

After enduring a seemingly unending period of time (like doing zazen with an itchy nose), my train finally rumbled to a stop in front of me.  Many others had been waiting with me, so we all crammed ourselves into the crowded car.  Collectively, we seemed tired, defeated, and worn out.  Just as the doors were about to close, a woman jumped into the doorway.  “Someone dropped their keys!” she pronounced.  Several of us looked up to notice a jumble of keys in her outstretched hand.  No one responded.  ”Someone dropped their keys!” she stated again.  More people started to look at her, while some started checking their pockets. 

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please” chimed the automated announcement. 

We continued to look at her.  “What’s she going to do?” I wondered. The doors closed shut, and she shoved them open.  “I have your keys!” she yelled.  “Check to make sure you have your keys!”

“Don’t hold the doors!  Step out of the doorway!” boomed the conductor. 

Suddenly, a young girl ran towards the door and gratefully grabbed them.  “Thank you!” she gushed.  The other woman pulled her arm out of the doorway as the doors snapped shut.  The train began to move. 

As I reflected on what happened and smiled at the obviously embarrassed girl, I noticed an old man leaning towards a young woman next to him.  “Just when you start to give up hope,” he said, “you notice that there’s still some good in the world.”  Indeed.

Author note:  I’m in the process of moving over the UM archives from our previous site to this new one.  Regrettably, because I switched platforms, this process is fairly labor intensive (i.e., lots of “cut and paste”).  While I’m keeping most of the posts true to their original publication date, occasionally I’ll repost one as current, like this one.  It was originally here on February 13, 2009, and it received a lot of attention.  It also appears in my Urban Mindfulness book, which will be released a little later this year.  Hope you like it (again).  JSK

Meditating on the subway is probably not ideal, but it sure beats playing Brick Breaker on your Blackberry, messing with your iPhone (or PSP), or skipping a meditation session altogether. It is safer (and easier) to meditate at home or as part of a meditation group, but sometimes we simply don’t have the time. So, here is a simple way to meditate “on the go.”

It is very important to maintain some level of awareness for your safety, however. So, please do not attempt this meditation if it’s crowded or if you notice someone around you who is drunk, acting erratically, or doing anything else that might seem threatening or unpredictable. You don’t want to have your bag or wallet stolen or miss some kind of approaching danger. And, meditation-wise, you can always try again later. So, if it seems unsafe or unwise to meditate for you to meditate on the subway, then don’t do it.

If it is safe, then here are the steps in meditating while standing. The meditation essentially is a version of a “body scan” in which you notice the sensations in your body relative to the movement of the train. In my next post, I’ll provide guidelines on how to meditate when you’re fortunate enough to have a seat.

• Check-in with your environment and people around you to make sure that it’s safe to practice now.
• Turn off your iPod or mp3 player. You might want to continue wearing the earphones however, in order to reduce the likelihood that someone will disturb you, however.
• Gather your belongings close to you in order to ensure that they will be secure during the meditation.
• Stand with your feet about shoulder width apart. Try to position your feet to be at a 45° angle to the centerline of the train, if possible. This will help you maintain balance as the train moves and stops. If necessary, hold onto a bar or railing.
• Roll your shoulders back and raise your chin up so that your head is level. Adopt a posture that embodies confidence and dignity.
• Lower your gaze to be looking at a window or a nondescript area next to someone seated. You could also look at your hand or arm if you’re holding onto part of the train. Do not look directly at another person. This is the city after all-you don’t want to be starting something! Also, it is helpful to keep your eyes open in order to be sensitive to any possible approaching danger.
• Mentally, rest your attention on the physical feelings in your body in the moving train. Pay particular attention to the sensations in your feet and legs. You might notice the way in which your muscles tense and release in order to help you maintain balance as the subway train accelerates and slows down. Become aware of the shift in your body as the train lurches forward or starts to brake. Maintain your awareness on your physical sensations for the duration of your trip.
• Whenever the train stops at a station, take a moment to check calmly and see if this is your stop. The stops, while disrupting your mindful awareness of your body, are like the sounds of a meditation bell, which invite you to refocus your attention.
• Exit when you reach your destination.
• Once you leave the train and move a safe distance away from the platform, take a moment to reflect on the activity and what you noticed. Proceed with your journey with mindful awareness and deliberate action.

Give this meditation a try and let me (and others) know what you think. Please post suggestions and share your experience in order to help guide us in this endeavor together.

Rush hour, changing trains
Like salmon migrating home –
No spawning on stairs

Recently, the NYC subway system has gone from bad to worse. Trains are coming less often, and moving less quickly. With your mindfulness practice, perhaps you’ve noticed these changes, too?

As a result, crowds of passengers are getting more plentiful and overwhelming platforms and stairwells. During rush hour at Broadway-Nassau, people use every inch of the narrow staircase to descend from the Downtown 4/5 to the Brooklyn-bound A/C. When I saw one passenger trying valiantly to climb the stairs and change trains in the opposite direction, I was inspired to write this small poem.

This blog entry took me a while to write, as my mother died a month or so ago. This is not about grief (for a nice paper on mindfulness and grief, click HERE), but how to be with such pain while having to function in our real, urban world.

When my mother died, I was in the relative comfort of Massachusetts with family, where it felt safe to feel everything that was coming up for me.  Then it was back to reality, the stimulation of our city, taking care of the business of life, my psychotherapy practice, family.  The feelings, of course, did not magically go away, and while they have changed, they hit when they want.

Hmm, so what to do when I’m standing on a subway platform and a wave hits me and I tear up?  Do I try to control the expression (assuming I can) of these feelings? As a man in this culture, there is a strong unspoken prohibition against the expression of these feelings in public (and private too) from which I am not immune.  At times, it is the noise of the city, the visual stimulation, the smells, that make for the stress of urban life.  When it comes to feelings like these, it is the awareness of other people that impacts me the most, bringing up feelings of self-consciousness.  I would prefer to grieve in a quiet, private place, with people that I choose, but that’s not always possible.

So, while we have little control over these powerful feelings when they do present themselves to us, we do have control over our awareness of them.  While we may feel the need at times to contain our behavior, we can still practice our awareness of these feelings in the present, especially where and how we feel them, in particular in our bodies.  We can notice how we relate to our feelings, whether we judge them, or push them away, argue with them, or allow them.  Often the best we can do is to let them move through us, without resistance or judgment, and to explore how we experience to them.  With that, I let go of the struggle and allow a few tears to roll down my face, waiting to get home for the good sob.