Did you grow up near railroad tracks? Many of us have. It seems as though much of my own life, I’ve spent watching trains. Growing up, we lived so close to the tracks that whenever a train was coming, all the kids would stop what we were doing and run as fast as we could to feel the wind from the train on our sweaty faces as the wooden bridge shook underneath us.

We picked berries in the brambles as the train blew by us in the summer. In the fall, I would write my heart out on that old bridge. Every now and then a train would blow by and I would face the wind and think about all the places I would go, someday.

I had my first kiss on that bridge when a young man walked me home from the Jo Davies County Fair. You could see the ferris wheel in the distance and the stars in the sky on that night.

This was also the bridge my mom walked over for a decade while working at Janlin Plastics. She walked over that bridge every night at 11:45. My dad came home from his second shift job at 11:45 too. As she was going across the bridge, she would look back and see he was pulling in. We were asleep in our beds the whole time but I always knew, especially on snowy or icy nights, that my mom had to cross that bridge and as much as we didn’t give it much thought, we all knew it was quite a fall to the bottom if you fell, and then there would be a train at some point so yes, it went through your mind. Plus, there was forever and always THAT kid who liked to hang off the bridge and tempt fate. The whole time I was growing up, I don’t recall a single kid falling though.

The fat man from the circus lived next door to us in that neighborhood. It’s true. He worked for Ringling Brothers. His name was Tiny Hicks. You can google him if you’re curious. Well, Tiny and his brother told us about Midnight Mary and how every night at midnight, she went to the drawbridge to wait for her husband who died at war. Now Midnight Mary drove an automobile that had to be from that era and she tended to wear dark clothes. Just the thought of her being on that bridge at night to meet her beloved was enough to keep all of us indoors as midnight approached. As one who could see the bridge from my bedroom window though, I was not amused by this story.

We also had a still from prohibition in our house near the railroad tracks. The still was in a basement below our actual basement. Bootlegged whisky was delivered through an underground tunnel that lead from our basement’s basement to the tracks and sent off to who knows where. All I know for sure is that it happened.

When I moved Creative Company to Madison a decade ago, we rented space in the old WWII manufacturing plant, Gisholt Machine Company. It too was right by the railroad tracks. The conductor would inevitably blow his horn right as we were meeting with someone or on a conference call. Business was slow so truth be told, Andre and I would put pennies on the railroad tracks now and then on our way to the Co-op. We would pick them up on a return trip. Our building manager looked at us, two creative souls, and she would think what on earth are those two up to today? We were on a mission. One of us wanted to be 8 years old again. The other was a willing accomplice. We made great things there too; even winning some awards. We grew. We moved to the other side of the tracks on the other side of the Capitol.

We remain within a stone’s throw of trains. The depot where passengers waited in years gone by is now the place where people buy bikes and drink coffee (Porter). Time passes. The characters change. The scenes change. But the story is the same — we are all going somewhere, until we’re not. People get on and people get off. The train keeps going.

The key is to notice that where we are right now will more than likely be something that we will later long for.

To be grateful for what is happening right at this very moment, seems to be the ticket to ride because tomorrow, we may look back and think, this was the best of times. It’s just that some of us (me) spend so much time in the future or in the past that we miss the train that is currently in the depot. We forget to notice the wonder of what is here and now because we are longing for something more or something that is forever lost. What if instead, we enjoyed the train we are on, in the present time? I wonder how that would change how we approach our day, our purpose, the amount of gratitude and presence we have with others…. I would think it could change things for the better.