Fantasy lives

To the guy on the train that sneezed... thanks.

Not a lot has been happening during my commutes lately.  People get on the train, we ride, we get off.  Nothing extraordinary.

This morning, as we trundled into the city, someone sneezed.

I glanced up, said "Bless you," and went back to my book.  Then I glanced up again.

The guy that sneezed had captured my attention.  He seemed to be around 30 years old, sitting there with his eyes closed, listening to his iPod.  He was wearing jeans and a light blue button down shirt, loafers with no socks, and long, brown dreadlocks.  He seemed so peaceful, riding the train and listening.

I wondered what he was listening to.  What kind of music would he choose for his morning commute? Zeppelin? Queen? Jay-Z? Taylor Swift?  Could he be listening to a podcast of some kind?  A comedy routine? Stuff You Missed In History Class?

Then I began to imagine how all these different choices would change his personality. If he was listening to Zeppelin would he be a slacker? An achiever?  What if it was Taylor Swift?  What kind of man would he be? How would his choice of music affect my perception of him?

I imagined entire worlds for this stranger, his job, his girlfriend/wife (depending on his music choice, of course), his interests.  I imagined him a football fan, an art lover, a hacker.  I gave him friends and family, a dog, cats, a snake (the snake went with Blues Traveler for some reason). With each musical artist or group that I placed in his iPod I gave him an entire personality, a complete life as I imagined the person that would pick such a tune.

I found myself smiling, even giggling as certain combinations arose: the Taylor Swift listener is unlucky in love (of course) and enjoys World of Warcraft, while the Queen listener was an adventuresome traveler who works in human rights.  I have no idea where these imaginings came from or why they went with the musicians they did, I just let fly. And it was great fun.

And he just sat there, listening.

I then realized that my imagination was extremely limited.  Why couldn't he like World of Warcraft and Jay-Z? Why couldn't he be an adventuresome traveler and love Kelly Clarkson?

I then gave this man ALL the music and ALL the personality traits that I had previously compartmentalized. He suddenly became worldly wise, a free thinker, a humanist.  He became an artist, a businessman, a sports lover.  He became, in my mind, a man that would hang out with Banksy one night and Rand Paul the next, fitting in equally with both.

He became limitless.

I really liked that guy.

I wonder who he is in reality.  I wonder if he feels his limits or if he allows himself to be immeasurable. I wonder if he reaches beyond himself.

Then I realized that I want to be that guy when I grow up.  I want to be limitless.

In that moment I made a vow: I will try to see that version of people as often as possible.  I will try to envision their infinity, their openness.  I will try to look past the limits that people put on themselves and see the possibilities for them.

I soon thought, "If I can do it for others, I can do it for me."

Then I cried.

I haven't imagined possibility in so long that I had forgotten that it was feasible.  I spend so much time fighting for things in my life, fighting for my health, clawing and scraping just to get by, that I didn't remember that I am also limitless. I have within me the possibility to do and be anything.  I can be anything.  I can do everything.

And I will.

As we exited the train, the guy that sneezed caught my eye.

"You OK?" he asked, seeing a tear on my cheek.

"Yes.  Thank you." I replied.  He had no idea what I was actually thanking him for, but he didn't need to know.  It is enough that I do.

I wish this for everyone.  I wish, for all of you, a guy that sneezes and takes you on a journey.

So, to the guy on the train that sneezed... you jump started my imagination and brought me to an epiphany today.  You have no idea what you inspired, but I will be forever grateful. I will look for the limitless in others and, more importantly, in myself.

Thanks.  Truly.