A Humbling Experience: Bean’s Life as a Pedestrian
It’s a humbling experience. As of late, my pride takes a hit every single day; but it’s one of those life lessons that I very much need to learn.
It’s funny because the common thought is, there’s a magic number to hit – a certain age you get to and believe everything magically and neatly falls into place. After this point, life will maintain an unshakable equilibrium.
Not so. The fact is, as long as we breathe, there’s always a mistake to be made and a lesson to be learned. You can take the most remarkable person you know – for me, that would be a Beyonce, and I guarantee she’s taken a misstep or two and as a result learned something new.
Perfectionism is a construct – it isn’t reality. Bean’s imperfect reality? I am now a pedestrian.
My Routine
My routine for the last few months:
Up at five-thirty in the morning. By seven, I walk my youngest to morning care. From there, I make another walk to the bus stop to board the 7:15AM.
I board, then settle in for the thirty- minute ride. I always sit on the right side, towards the back.
When I look at the few, fellow passengers, the stark comparison between public transportation on Long Island and that of Brooklyn becomes vivid. Always does.
In Brooklyn, buses are packed and that’s an understatement.
Thoughts of the B35 bus making its way down Church Avenue crowd my memories. There were so many passengers, people are forced to stand on the back stairs of the bus.
Sitting there on my way to work – I compare the two bus rides between the ones I’ve experienced in Brooklyn ,where I grew up and where I now live on Long Island. Right there, a bus ride becomes an illustration of the socioeconomic disparities between the two: suburban versus urban life. In suburbia, a bus this empty means residents have the means to purchase private transportation.
I get to my last stop, then I grab a Lyft to work. I’m in the office, comfortable and staring into my computer before my boss walks in.
Without my own car, that’s all that matters this God given weekday; I’m at work, on time.
The Pedestrian Life
We used to refer to pedestrians as “foot soldiers,” now I count myself as part of the foot soldier army.
My Breaking Bad Habits post talks about my horrible way of putting things off until they become disasters I’m forced to deal with. At the present, the foot soldier life is what I’m dealing with – all because I didn’t act proactively to prevent a larger problem; now I have no car.
Nevertheless, while I think of the inconvenience of public transportation, the shame of having to accept or ask for a ride, thoughts of my mother frequently surface and I remember she had the ultimate pedestrian hustle; she was a real one.
My Mother: The Ultimate Pedestrian Hustler
My mom never had a car. Driving was a convenience she couldn’t afford. Raising three children by herself on a Home Health Aide’s salary in the 80’s and 90’s – there’s no way she could manage a car payment & insurance. Besides that, she had a crippling fear of driving.
My mother was a God fearing church lady. Attending service at least three times a week was mandatory for her. Fact is, my mom had to hustle to get get to and from church; and getting to church even took precedence over going to work.
My mom was pretty, funny as hell and knew how to use her outgoing personality to get us where we needed to go on the cheap. My hero; she navigated life in a way that I didn’t have to. I looked at her work in awe – I just knew when she was running game to get us a free or reduced fare taxi ride…most times, it worked.
During this time, remembering my mother – and myself in the midst of having no car – I can only feel a sense and lesson in gratitude; my mother was amazing.
My mother did what she had to do to get us around, all without a car and she never once felt sorry for herself. So much strength, there wasn’t an obstacle she faced raising three children on her own that she didn’t handle with grace.
Yet here I am, in a car-less situation and in full victim mode. The fact is, the generation before us was made of something tougher. They shouldered the burdens so that we didn’t have to. Adversity was a rite of passage to make our lives as their children easier.
Now as I shuttle back and forth between different forms of transportation and start to get into “woe is me” mode – I remember that, first, I only have myself to blame for this situation and most importantly, my mother went through so much more.
The Blissfully Single Lesson
While I save money for another car, I learn my blissful lessons and I try to do so like a champ. In fact, I’m extending my time as a pedestrian.
I’m buying my next car cash, so I want to save more money to get more car. Plus and most importantly, this is a time of character building; if I value jumping into my car to get where I need to, I’ll take a proactive approach and less reactive when it comes to caring for my things.
Just another lesson in this blissfully single life.
Blissfully Yours Friends,
