What Missing LOTS of Trains This Year Taught Me About Failure
I watched my train pull out of the station today as I arrived đ«
Then I got to the platform and saw the next one wasnât coming for another 11 minutes. đ đ đ
After a brief sigh, I walked down the stairs and thought, Well⊠at least I donât have to wait an hour.
Wow. How much can change in a yearâs time.
I couldnât even be mad. I knew exactly how I got there: taking my time getting a $7 coffee I absolutely did not need, scrolling on my phone, spinning in slow circles like I had nowhere to be, moseying out the door with zero urgency.
Yes, arriving late was 100% my fault!
If Iâm being honest, had this happened at the beginning of the year⊠it mightâve been an instant crash out as the kids like to say.
I for sure would have been mad.
At myself. At the universe. At the calendar. At the MBTA. At my life choices.
But the past year has been a masterclass in overcoming failures â big and small.
Starting, hilariously, with my commute.
Itâs been:
Uber or ride from my aunt to the commuter rail (~6 minutes).
Commuter rail to the Red Line (~35 minutes).
Red Line to the office (another ~35 minutes).
And throughout all of that?
A symphony of missed trains, unexpected delays, 11â85 minute waits, sudden schedule changes, and other commuting shenanigans that truly tested my spirit.
What this commute gifted me (besides material for a future comedy special) was an unreasonable amount of time to sit with myself.
To sit with the frustration.
To sit with the discomfort.
To sit with the parts of me that used to interpret every inconvenient moment as evidence of some personal shortcoming.
And somewhere between platform benches and delayed trains, things started to shift in me.
I learned how not to make unfortunate moments in life mean something about me or my worth.
Missing a train wasnât a failure.
A delay wasnât a divine punishment.
An inconvenience wasnât a sign from God about my faith, obedience or discipline.
It was just⊠life!
Unfolding in real time.
With me learning how to respond instead of reactâŠ
How to breathe instead of spiralâŠ
How to offer myself grace instead of judgment.
This year taught me that âfailureâ is rarely the thing we think it is.
Most of the time itâs just feedback, redirection, or a moment thatâs asking us to slow down long enough to see the quirky, beautiful layers of our own story.
Sometimes the train leaves without you.
Sometimes the timing isnât perfect.
Sometimes life throws you an 85-minute delay just to remind you youâre not actually in control.
But youâre always free to choose what the moment means.
And today?
Missing the train simply meant I had 11 minutes to breathe, be, and remember how far Iâve come.
Iâm curious to know, what are some unexpected lessons youâve learned this year in unexpected ways?
