Transition

I'm taking the bus home again and I've been thinking a lot lately. In the past couple of months, I've changed the name of this blog no less than six times. I am usually very indicisive about these sorts of things, finding that what to me may seem witty and cool on one day seldom lasts in my favour for more than a week.

That is why I am puzzled somewhat about why my current choice of title has lasted over two weeks now. It seems to have struck a chord with me. Why?

Well, physically the western terminus of both skytrain lines is Waterfront station. In spite of its faults, the skytrain remains my cheapest and most reliable option for travel in and out of the city that I love. Coincidentally, I lived for many years on the waterfront near the historic terminus of a major railway, a place that I desire greatly to return to.

Lacking a car, transit is the major way I get around: an hour and a half to get to school, two to get to work. The arrangement is less than ideal, but at the moment it works. I have to travel several hours on the bus to visit friends. They do not come out to see me, but I suppose they have their reasons and I choose not to dwell upon it. I waste a lot of time just getting to where I need to be, so much that I often feel that I'm going nowhere and accomplishing nothing.

In life, love and happiness I feel like I am in transit. Already this year I have had to deal with a number of unwelcome changes to my life. The only way that I have seen fit to manage is to tell myself that things will change eventually, that I am just travelling through this and eventually I will step onto the platform at a more desireable stop.

We're all looking for something. Right now while my life is in flux, all I'm looking for on so many fronts is a pleasant terminus. And right now I am a helpless passenger, or so it seems.

"Are you taking transit?" Carly asked me, as I left from work.

"Of course," I replied.