The art of waiting, the charm of leaving

After exploring parts of Podmoskovie it was time to buy a ticket and follow the train tracks leading to the heart of Moscow. It’s pretty common to commute for about 2 hours to your work, which is something I cannot imagine – especially after living in Slovenia, where you can get to the other side of the country in 2 hours. But humans are adaptable creatures so people discovered comfortable positions to continue their sleep cycle or they’re busy reading books, newspapers or they feel like they’ve been neglecting knitting for a while so the train ride is as good time as any. And we all know warm socks under the Christmas trees don’t knit themselves!

The waiting.
The station.

I always liked all places that have a sense of leaving lingering around them. I’m horrible at saying goodbye and it’s definitely not on my top 5 favorite things ever, but with every goodbye there’s that feeling of something unknown waiting for you somewhere out there. The thrilling anticipation mixed with crippling anxious thoughts stirred by the mystery of life. That’s why traveling is so addictive, the rush is indescribable.

Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, “I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station”.
– Lisa St. Aubin de TerĂ¡n

The art of waiting.

There’s another thing that I love about the act of going somewhere. There’s this notion that for this period of time you’re kind of stuck wherever you are, on a bus, train, car, plane or a tractor. But it’s not a bad kind of stuck, but more of a “I don’t have to be bothered with anything right now as I can’t be anywhere else and can’t be doing anything else”. It also really narrows down the list of bad decisions you could make, which comes in handy. At least for me.

This is why you can’t be fat in Russia.
How else would you jump over fences so you don’t have to buy a ticket?

I’m not gonna lie, I could spend hours and hours lurking around stations and airports waiting for little moments of joy, goodbye tears, sparkling eyes and bravery carved into the faces of passersby.

Cheers to the mess we’ve made!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *