Should I Push In, or Not... A Small Morning Commute Dilemma

For the past two years, I have been commuting to work by subway instead of by car.

At first, I worried it might be inconvenient, but there were more benefits than I expected.

With more time spent walking, I naturally got some exercise, and because I was not driving,

I could use the extra time to study English on YouTube or read e-books.

Commuting by subway ended up making my life richer.

But there is one small difficulty I feel while riding the subway.

It is the moment, when I am alone, of squeezing through people via the already open subway doors.

When everyone rushes in together, it feels natural, but when I arrive a little late and have to enter between people who have already taken their places, or when I have to board an overcrowded subway alone, I become especially cautious.

Repeatedly saying, “Excuse me” and “Sorry,” the act of trying not to step on someone’s foot feels like an even greater burden.

One morning not long ago, on the way to work, I was in a rush and barely managed to force my body inside just before the doors closed.

For a moment, I met the eyes of the people inside the train, and the strangely cold look in their eyes made me feel as if I had done something wrong.

All I could do was smile awkwardly and lower my head.

Since then, no matter how urgent it is, I have hesitated to push my way in alone.

On another evening, it happened during rush hour when the subway was crowded as I was heading home from work.

When I arrived at the platform, the doors were open, but the train was packed.

An announcement said the next train would come in three minutes, and after thinking about it for a moment, I decided not to board.

'I wonder if waiting three more minutes will really change my life. What difference would it make to get home three minutes earlier?' I convinced myself like that.

Standing on the empty platform, I felt a strange sense of exclusion and, at the same time, relief.

I also thought it was fortunate that I had not forced my way in.

Perhaps what stopped me was not other people’s stares, but my own timidity.

A crowded subway may be similar to our lives.

We are all headed in the same direction, but sometimes we cannot join the flow and end up standing still.

But missing a train once or twice does not mean we will never reach our destination.

In the end, even if it is a little late, we do arrive.

Once I realized this simple truth, there seemed to be less reason to force my way in.

Today, too, I hesitated for a moment in front of the subway door and stepped back.

Standing on the platform and watching the train pull away, I wait for the next one.

As I comfort myself with the thought that 'waiting a little longer is not so bad,' the announcement for the next train arrives.

Maybe even a small wait is one of life’s little pleasures.