Thanks for the Ride

Strangers tend to divulge their stories to me. I started to notice this trend particularly when I rode the bus to college. During my twenty minute ride to the university, amidst the traffic on Hempstead Turnpike, fellow riders would open up to me about their life. Insecurities and all.

And even now, I find that people I meet — even for a brief moment in time — like to be open. They like to reminisce. They want to tell me things. They want to share their life, their past and present. And it’s funny because I don’t ask questions, I don’t inquire — at least not initially. But in a way, I suppose this could be perceived as flattering; maybe they can read me as someone who also likes to connect, to reminisce, to feel grounded in their thoughts and feelings. And they would be right.

I notice this to a large extent with drivers from Lyft. It always goes back to being in transit. Maybe it’s the in-between, the waiting period, the travel from one location to another, where people try to find common ground. Once in a while, I have a driver who drives and remains quiet, but most of the time, these drivers do share. And I share back. This is where I grew up; this is where I’m from, where I’m rooted. This is what I do. This is what I really want to do. This is the weather. This is the season I love. This is the season that gets hard. This is my family. This is what my life looks like right now. This is where I’m going on the path ahead. And so on and so forth.

Sometimes, I even learn a thing or two on my rides to work. One man told me that I look younger than I am and then proceeded to talk about holding onto anger and resentment and worry. Those who walk around with that in their heart, they look older, he said. For those ten minutes during that drive, he manifested as a spiritual teacher of sorts, imparting a lesson.

It’s a give and take, a back and forth. And it’s something we don’t have to participate in; there is no contract, no obligation to disclose anything, really. But there is something  basic and humanistic about these interactions.  About wanting to counter solitude during a car ride. Wanting to identify with someone else. Wanting to relate to their experiences. Wanting to talk to a stranger on the way to their job early in the morning.

And while I’m not always in the mindset to talk, I can always listen and understand. Because it’s what they are choosing to do in that moment. And from there, I can talk back to these strangers. I can relay stories, too. I can say thank you for the ride and mean it.

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