22 & not a clue

There is a man on the 59 tram who quite literally takes up most of two seats. He somehow always finds a seat and always has his earphones plugged in & an iPad wedged between his forearm & chest.

I have observed him often in the mornings, mainly because he appears blissfully ignorant of the raised eyebrows, disgusted looks & sharp glances from fellow passengers perched beside him. I'm sure its a life long practiced skill.
I have often thought to myself that if he tried to sit beside me I would say something & ask him to sit elsewhere. I have also thought how it would be better if people sitting next to him just stood instead of being so rude.

So this morning the only seat available was a few square inches beside this man. I perched precariously for most of the journey, cursing him silently & judging him for being the way he is. Surely he should be considerate of others and stand. Or apologise? Or walk?! The longer I sat there the more people got on, scuffing my feet, standing on my toes & sticking their arses in my ears. I was infuriated.

But as I sat there, I glanced over at his iPad & read the screen. He was reading a romantic online fan fiction story. The tale seemed gripping and judging by the pace of reading it was. The heroine appeared passionate yet vulnerable, the villain sleazy and beguiling. There was no sign of the hero, yet.

I am a hypocrite in every sense of the word, not just because I have many plus size friends, am plus size myself and simultaneously loathe & pity this man. But because I chose to be mean minded first, rather than practicing what I so often preach which is compassion. He didn't wear a wedding band, he wasn't particularly attractive facially, but none of that matters. I condemned him for what I saw on the surface alone.

After a few minutes more observing him and the story I started to realise he was just another A searching for a B. We all want to love & be loved in return, regardless of shape, size or form. Who dictates how and what we should love? Why should one body be shamed in the support of another & who says one body shape is superior in aesthetics to another?

It only takes one person to love you & think you are wonderful. Not the whole of society.

I'm ashamed of myself for being so cross at a man who was just going about his business best he can like the rest of us. The truth however is that I can preach about compassion all I like but at the end of the day society will still think for us. Change in views and attitudes work at a snails pace, there will always be prejudices and rudeness wherever we go. What helps change is the recognition of the negative and the search or discovery of the good and the things in common.

The morning commute is never a pleasure. It is to most, a dreaded part of the 9-5 routine. Although let's face it, it's more like 6:30-6:30 by the time you factor in the shower, lunch, morning tea & on the other end the bread & milk you forgot at lunch. Bugger.

I plug out. I find man kind is much more enjoyable to be around if I just don't engage. So I am unfortunately that girl on the tram with earphones in and a calm look on her face which just doesn't make sense for this time of day.
The truth is the commute is where I get most of my inspiration from.
I look at people. I am that creep. I am stealing details about you and learning about you. So much so that people no longer appreciate just how much can be learnt about them from a single glance.

It is possibly one of the few perks of being tall that I tower over most on public transport. It means I see things others don't. Like the girl who stood in front of me this morning, though immaculately groomed, had evidently stopped using ear buds years ago. The middle aged woman to my left had put her earring on backwards, how? And the elderly gent on my right had ripped a button off his collar. Does he have no one to sew it back on?

Yesterday on a tram a woman in front of me was reading a pamphlet on pregnancy. She could only be in her first trimester. Another woman, heavily pregnant then sat down next to her opposite me. I had this wonderful moment of life in motion before me.
And yet the two did not speak. The heavily pregnant woman glanced at the pamphlet, then at the woman's stomach and then hugged her handbag closer.
I don't know her story, but surely something could have been said, a connection or shared moment where the two acknowledge their achievement and position in life.
I sat across from them both and wondered how did you both get here? And why doesn't this unite you rather than leave you silent and indifferent?
I know I am a hypocrite here as I choose to tune out to morning commuter life. But it leaves me free to voyeur, to watch as the world spins madly on and we do and say nothing in its wake.
Why won't people reach out? Why don't we smile and share together. A stranger is only so until you speak.

I read the Mx everyday after work & the section 'Vent Your Spleen' is filled with angry commuters voicing their disdain for others. Everyone is indignant about the lack of consideration from others. Few give each other the benefit of the doubt or wonder how things have come to be for that person.
Maybe it's the writer in me, but I feel that as man kind progresses we are losing our ability to empathise or care.

Consider for a moment the attractive man or woman you saw last on public transport. You were interested, intrigued and wondered how their path had come to cross with yours. Where is that curiosity with everyone else? I'm not saying stare inquisitively at every other person like a weirdo, I'm saying have compassion.
Move over on the tram and don't be so awkward, don't throw such scornful looks because someone has pushed onto the train.

They are simply another A getting to another B. Just like you.