I’ve started to look forward to my commute to campus. Although it’s only a mile, I have mostly stopped walking and have been taking the bus both ways. For one, I’m pretty good at deluding myself about what time I actually need to leave to get to class on time which often results in a panicked (and embarrassing) jog a few blocks away. And although I am a huge advocate of walking, the journey to and from campus has begun to feel more like a dreaded trek than a reflective walk.
Opting to take the bus has given me time to reflect on my day. In the morning, it gives me time to gather my thoughts before an interview or time to wake myself up on a particularly early morning. On the way home, it gives me a second to wind down and reflect on my day before I debrief with my roommates. This time is especially necessary during the gloom of winter. After a full day of classes and a sunset at what feels like 2:45 p.m., sometimes I just want a solitude (and sometimes melodramatic) bus ride to feel sorry for myself. See: my playlist “feeling sorry for myself on the bus.”
I’ve been thinking about taking the bus a lot. From the people watching to the massive delays you can prepare for, the experience is unique but universal for all riders. I’ve also been thinking about how sitting in the back of the 67 gives me the opportunity to just sit and think. How often in our lives do we have time to just reflect, to brainstorm, or just to worry?
Taking the bus, to me, means taking time out of my day where I’m not allowed to be productive. I’m not responding to emails on the bus or going on social media (which I would be doing but thanks to my Brick I physically cannot). And, although I love getting lost in thought as I work out or go on a walk, taking the bus forces me to pause. From staring out the window during the 67 delay that takes us all the way down to the water near Fisheries or the 45 that winds through campus, listening to my music and sitting is the best time to think.
The urge to distract myself is everywhere. If I’m not talking to my roommates or doing school work, I’m watching TV, listening to a podcast, or calling my sister. Even at night, I always read or journal until I’m tired enough to fall asleep. Taking the bus forces me to be bored. Well, not bored because, as my grandfather would say, “boring people get bored.” But taking the bus forces me to exist undistracted for a few moments. I’ll admit, I’m not quite at the level of going no-music on the bus (except if my phone’s dead) but I’d like to think the music aids in my reflectiveness.
Maybe it’s just the 60s/70s obsessed history major in me, but I’m worried about losing my creativity and imagination. It’s really easy to fill my day with outside information. From TikTok to New York Times articles to my favorite podcasts, I do genuinely enjoy consuming media. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I’d like to not lose sight of how I’m feeling or who I am. Maybe my 15-minute bus rides won’t amount to any substantial self-growth or deep reflections, but I do think taking the time to just exist is important.