A story about conquering hunger and other such things.
He couldn’t quite remember when he first noticed her or when she first became a problem. But he was sure he had become fed up with her a long time ago.
He loved the train he took. He loved the time to himself and the seat he got. The journey, the sites, the work he intended to get done.
His daily commute took him through the most wonderful part of Sri Lanka. From Bandarawela to Ella through the nine arches bridge. One of the most scenic routes for a train anywhere. (Describe further)
He lived a very predictable and unexciting life in general. His mind however, had always been a pretty active place. Like a little cafe in a small town where a number of colorful people from different walks of life convene every evening, bringing with them their variety of dressing styles, talking styles, mannerisms, ideologies and such. His life, as an accounting clerk, was pretty much like the quiet little town, but his mind was that cafe.
Outwardly he wasn’t an overly ambitious person, but the little neuronic adventures of his mind were his lifeblood. And he would be quite satisfied if he could keep that alive by reading, learning new skills, hearing from interesting people and so on.
The challenge, was to find the setting and time to do this in a consistent manner, so that his mind could stay alit. He had determined a long time ago that the moving train, with it’s wonderful scenery, was the perfect sanctuary for this. Home had too much randomness and work was too monotonous. The ride was when evening would come to his small town cafe.
And so, although some might think a commute to be a menial thing, for him it was anything but.
There was one problem though. He would get in feeling great and the ride would start. All good so far. Before long though, he would notice her. And her unbearable humming and scat singing. She took to some recognizable songs but often went off tune too. It was a careless, somewhat clumsy symphony of high and low notes mashed up together, sometimes coherent, sometimes not. Although her underlying voice was pleasant and by now familiar, he found the whole thing infuriating.
It seemed to start out low and get louder as it went on. And while it got gradually more irritating, a point would come when it suddenly became exponentially more unbearable. A tipping point you could say.
He would often try to tune her out, but even in the little moments when he managed it, the nagging fear of when she would break through his forcefield kept him distracted. .
She was a nice and amiable person. She must be in some creative field he thought to himself, judging from her casual workwear and colorful nails. She wasn’t loud, or messy, or inconsiderate like some commuters could be. But she had this humming habit that she seemed to quite enjoy as she fiddled on with her phone. And she sat in the very next booth. The daily commute consisted mostly of creatures of habit, much like himself, so everyone was usually seated in the same places.
It was, to him, like setting up the perfect event only for things to go awry at the last minute. Chairs, tables, stage, flowers, all lined up and then ruined by the rain. It was exactly as exhausting as that.
He had tried to talk to her once in a while, hoping that she would get distracted and stop the vocalizing. But no sooner would the little chat end, than would she get back to it.
He had tried to offer her a magazine or paper to read hoping that it would occupy her for some time. And it would work. For a while. But when she got back to it, it seemed like her flow was never broken.
The constant effort of trying to tune her out and focus on his own thoughts would leave him exhausted. His long and wonderful commute, on which he intended to do all those things he couldn’t get done anywhere else, would be wasted.
On some occasions he would convince himself not to expect too much out of the ride. Maybe that way the annoyance would be less. Let go and just be easy about it, he would think. This wasn’t completely effective either however. He still got tripped by the unrelenting alwaysness of it. She didn’t go on continuously of course, but every time he got to his hobbies thinking she’d stopped, she would start again.
He couldn’t really force her to stop of course. No one else seemed to be particularly phased by any of it. She had every right to be there and every right to do her little hum. And he wasn’t too comfortable with that kind of confrontation anyway.
So it went on. Time after time. This pesky little annoyance kept robbing him of his most precious and enjoyable moments. His delightful cafe, with it’s delectable menu and cosy seats remained empty every evening.
And so, we arrive at yesterday. A day that started out terribly. Our accountant friend, as we discussed, was accustomed to a monotonous work day. He relied on that, to allow himself to have his other adventures outside of it. However, yesterday was chaotic. Through an error of one of the IT people, who he didn’t much like anyway since there was always something breaking down in IT, a heap of data was corrupted. So, he and his colleagues were left scrambling, using paper bills for the day’s transactions and trying to figure out how and by when they could re-enter and organize the missing data. This was mid-march, nearing the end of the accounting year, so they didn’t have much time at all. He usually took two small breaks everyday, one for lunch and one for tea, during which he stepped away from his workstation and went either into the lunch room, or out to the nearby kade. But yesterday, he had to take his tea at his desk and missed his lunch altogether.
After all this, when he got onto the train, with his mind still whirling, and a feeling of things left undone making him extremely uneasy, he didn’t try to do anything much at all. He just sank into his seat, and aimlessly gazed out of the window.
From the next booth, the humming started shortly afterward. Uh! there’s that annoying hum he thought, before he got lost in his thoughts again. As he kept noticing the hum and getting lost in his thoughts, his attention shifting from one to the other, something slowly started to change. With his creative friend and her now musical hum in the background his thoughts started to ease up.
Of course ! He thought to himself. A cafe must have some music. Without that, all the random noises would each stand out and hurt the ears. With a little music, all the talking, clanking and shifting could blend into each other and make the perfect soundscape for all it’s patrons to have that unique feeling of solitude in a crowd.
Maybe, just maybe, if he could enjoy her humming, the girl in the next booth would be the perfect companion to his mind’s journeys. He began to notice the cool breeze and take in the wonderful mountainous hills again.
He pulled out a book that he had been meaning to read for weeks now, and gave it a go. No battle ensued. No wounded soldiers. Just an exciting trip to a world of wonders, with some music in the background.
Judging from his excitement, we suppose that as this way of thinking becomes more normal to our accountant friend, he will stop needing to be conscious of it. And he will have many adventures everyday. He will no longer try to interrupt or distract that girl who always hums. He will, instead, look forward to having her around.
– – – – – – – – – –
Could it be that many of our human physiological and emotional triggers are like that hum on the train ride.
Hunger for example. Everyday, for those who become used to being full, hunger keeps humming. Sometimes, even soon after a meal. But there is a lack of energy, a slowness that comes from a full stomach. A brain fog that is hard to break through.
Some try to solve hunger by snacking, like a paper or a magazine to interrupt the humming girl. But it doesn’t really go away by that. Instead, the fear of hunger just gets reinforced by making sure a snack is at hand. It may be true for someone going out into the wild, that such a fear is healthy. But for most people in the modern world, it seems it is not. Those who try their hand at fasting, often discover this to be true. They find that an empty stomach is not always the sign of a hungry person. An empty stomach feels lighter and can be enjoyed rather than tolerated.
Take public performance as another example. Many things in our natures seem to follow a similar rule book.
Some feel such a crippling anxiety and fear from the thought of it that stage fright, although abstract, is very real to them. However, that same hum of physiological responses; A heightened heart rate, dilated pupils, and an adrenaline rush, are perceived positively by successful performers. They feel the same things, yet embrace them. They call it excitement.
An empty stomach is a good thing in its time and place. As is a heightened heart rate. If we can learn to embrace them, not tolerate them, not manage them, but truly enjoy them, maybe we can be much better off.
Some similar truth may even be found in what one considers a spouse’s annoying habits. We do need to embrace all aspects of a person to have a good relationship with them after all. That’s possibly what an embrace, a hug, is meant to mean. A slightly messy partner, may in fact bring the perfect dose of carefreeness to an otherwise overly serious life. Or vise-versa.