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The Train

“Psychology is a train.” Dr. Marshall Duke was closing his final lecture of our Introduction to Psychology class. Two hundred and fifty students, most of us college freshman, waited for him to continue. “Some of you will be getting off here and some will continue the journey. To all of you, I say this – I hope you have enjoyed the ride.” 

 

I’ve carried the memory of that moment for over 25 years. I appreciate the metaphor and have used it to guide my self-reflection and decision-making when I find myself at a journey’s end, a crossroads, or when grappling with the question “Is this still working for me?” What I have learned since I sat in that lecture hall so many years ago is that each train carries three different passengers: (1) Those who are disembarking, (2) those who are comfortably seated with no intention of moving, and (3) those who sit somewhere in between “disembarking” and “I’m comfortable here.” I have been each of those passengers. We all have.

 

As this academic year nears its final moments, we find ourselves pulling into the train station to allow passengers to disembark. The good-byes that seemed far in the distance are now within fingertip reach. As the ones disembarking, we are faced with the challenge of leaving in a way that honors the journey we traveled and our fellow passengers who choose to remain in their seats. I once heard a colleague tell a medical student that “we should always aim to leave a room in such a way that we are welcomed back into it later.” That can be challenging to do. It might feel easier to leave on a wave of outrage or resentment than with a gentle, and somewhat wistful, “My journey ended. I enjoyed it. I will miss it.” Yet, resting in the space of “my journey ended” allows for self-reflection of what we will carry from our travels, and what aspects could be discarded to make space for new experiences. And, yes, sometimes, the life lessons we will carry are overshadowed by the hard emotions we must address first. 

 

Sometimes we watch the disembarking of others from the vantage point of feeling comfortably settled in our current seats. The challenge for those of us who choose to remain in our seats is to watch beloved fellow travelers exit the train to begin a new journey elsewhere, and then contend with the gamut of emotions their leave-taking elicits in us. We may feel excited and a bit envious as they step into a new adventure. We may feel a sense of grief and loss as we look at their vacated seats and the thought “it won’t be the same” arises. 

 

As we remain in our seats contending with our gamut of emotions, we are faced with our own self-reflection task – taking a mental inventory of where we have been and where we want to go. A teacher colleague said that she appreciates the ending of one school year because it allows her to re-evaluate what needs to be shifted, what should remain, and what needs to be abandoned before a new school year begins. This self-reflection, alongside our feelings about others’ leave-taking, is the mental and emotional task we face when we choose to remain in our seats.

 

And sometimes we find ourselves in the space in between the other two groups. We aren’t disembarking and we aren’t settled in our seats. We inhabit the space of “not yet,” which has the potential to be exciting or emotionally upsetting. In her book Mindset, Carol Dweck talked about the importance of appreciating the space of “not yet,” a necessary component of growth and development. “Not yet” means that something special is in the process of emerging and we should nurture it with self-reflection, curiosity and exploration. On our train, “not yet” could mean many things – a future disembarkation, finding a new seat on the same train, or finding a new perspective about our current seat. As Rilke said in Letters to a Young Poet, the answers will reveal themselves when we are ready to live them. Our job in the meantime is to live the questions the “not yet” elicits.

 

Regardless of whether we are disembarking, remaining in our seats, or embracing “not yet” experiences, all passengers aboard our train have a shared truth: COVID-19 gave our journey a surprise ending that we had not anticipated when the train left the station in August. Although the ending of academic year 2019-2020 lacks our traditional transition and closure rituals, it was a good journey and we learned valuable life lessons that will serve us on future travels. We found inner reserves of resilience and discovered ways to remain connected as a community, despite geographical separations. Our mental scrapbooks are filled with snapshots of moments that made us laugh out loud, tear up, and celebrate our time together. Though some of our fellow travelers will make a quiet disembarkation due to our social distancing limitations, their impact will not be forgotten and their contributions will not go unnoticed. 

 

My friends, as our train pulls into the station and we prepare for the next leg of our travels, may we remember the journey we experienced together. May we celebrate the community that embraces us all, and may we honor these beautiful children who brought us together. 

 

As I close the final blog of this academic year, I return to words of Dr. Duke – “I hope you have enjoyed the ride.”  I know I did. I’ll see you next year and the Counselor’s Corner will return after a summer break. Stay tuned for more blogs on resilience, self-compassion, and learning from our life experiences. Previous posts will remain on the website (https://rss-counselor.blogspot.com). Ubuntu, fellow travelers…Jennifer

 

To those disembarking – You will be missed, each and every one of you. Others eventually may occupy your seats, but know that you are irreplaceable. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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