A few days ago my subway had a really bad morning. As it was approaching my destination stop, (insult) it encountered a section of broken rail (injury) which caused it to abruptly decelerate from a steady rollick to a whiny crawl before stopping entirely with a beleaguered sigh.
I, along with a hundred-ish other people whose mornings were destined for snafu, sat in disaffected silence for the first few minutes – we’re accustomed to regular, brief pauses. After all, the NYC subway has been around for 112 years, so it makes sense that she’d have to occasionally catch her breath – headphoned, faces buried in books and gadgets, with only cursory glances at our fellow riders. After multiple minutes, we heard the first announcement, of which the only comprehensible word was “inconvenience”.
What then transpired was an endurance test that was equal parts inefficient and excessive (that last one was the conductor’s adjective, btw). It involved PSAs that were as repetitive as they were unhelpful, burly gentlemen in reflective vests who wouldn’t meet our eyes, false promises, multiple directional changes, and waves of helpless commuter rage as train after rerouted train rumbled by, filled with folks going where they wished. Plus stillness. So. Much. Stillness.
The only option was to surrender. At first, we fought it, of course – New Yorkers can be resilient to the point of foolishment. Eventually, however, we emerged from our bubbles of self-occupation armed with complaints, snarky growls, and foul whispers; we brandished deep breaths, bargains, and muffled panic, to no avail. Our collective grump got us nowhere in the midst of us getting nowhere.
As we sat in the stale-growing air, peeved and defeated, someone eventually fired off a joke that cracked open a floodgate of cabin-fevered hilarity. And just like that, the situation shifted. Nothing beats laughter to decrease the energetic distance between people. We giggled ourselves into a collective shrug and released our grip on the concept of control. Klatches formed. Snacks were passed about. Between-car bathroom expeditions were met with cheers. Someone put on Stevie Wonder. Amusement unifies and uplifts us – it’s no coincidence that laughing feels so good.
(I have no clue what transpired in the other cars, but I’ve chosen to believe that they also used the power of jokery to transform their metal boxes into as-close-to-a-party-as-possible-given-the-circumstances.)
That morning was hilarious and sweet and an enormous drag, and while I can’t technically prove that our attitude adjustment made the time pass faster, it definitely made it pass better, because we remembered that there is power in community, especially in situations that look a lot like hopeless. We’re all in this together. We all keep each other afloat.
I intend to keep that piece of truth at a close hand in the days to come. I invite you to join me. Shining > whining.
