Our Life Train

Where are we choosing to sit on our life train? This metaphor was discussed on a radio talk show by Dr. Donna Dannenfelser, a psychotherapist, which Tosha Silver, wanted to share with us on her weekly forum call.   

I am absolutely fascinated by the train metaphor that Dr. Donna, introduces and desire to share it here in case it may be new for anyone as it is for me. Also, a fun side note being that my father was a long time railroad man working for the Union Pacific Railroad for many years.

The caboose, located in the very back of the train represents all that is in the past. As we gaze out perhaps feelings of opportunities missed, the why did this happen or should have moments keep racing by. In early loss days I camped out in the caboose as being anywhere else was not fathomable. It was my safety, my shelter, my cocoon and also a place I could not reside in forever.

Moving forward from the caboose into the baggage car. This may represent former experiences, how one grew up, our childhood, and perhaps are containers for that which are weighing us down and are no longer needed. What bags can we let go of because they are no longer interesting nor serving us? My bad mom baggage felt worn out, stale and stuffy with the handle falling off, thus toting it around any longer felt awkward and cumbersome. Oh, my goodness, the unpacking of this old piece has been something else and only possible with the vigilant help of my guides, my mentor and son. It is still ongoing, yet the contents of that bag which often felt like an old steamer trunk, now fit in a pocket size bag. With continued unraveling and working within what is true and what is not, I trust the size of the container will continue to shrink and dwindle in size. I understand fully now that so much of my bad mom looping was fueled by my fantasy thoughts that I should have been able to save my son from the disease of addiction. Of course, I know that I was never nor am I that powerful.

Next, comes the passenger car. People enter the train and they exit. There is a natural flow to this and if they are meant to remain they will, and if not they will leave as their time spent with us has come to an end for now. Feelings can become hurt, confusion can ensue, until one has learned that this is the natural progression of life. I noticed friendships evolving and changing within Al-Anon and my bereavement support groups.

After the passenger car, we enter into the engine car. This becomes our self care car however that might look and feel for each individual. It is the fuel that runs the engine, what fills us up and is our source of vitality and aliveness. Meditation, our spiritual practices, art, dancing, traveling, the foods we take into our bodies, exercise, absorbing nature, our animals we love so, to offer just a sampling.

Walking from the engine car we find ourselves in the front car. Who is driving the train? Our Inner Divine, our highest self, is the conductor and if we hand the job over to our ego, we might find that we are derailed more often than gliding down the tracks. I can guarantee that outcome whenever I try to take over and control that which was never mine in the first place.

There is an additional spot on some trains that are AMAZING. The dome car, is perched on top and offers a panoramic view from above that is breathtaking. An elevated field of vision that is stunning. My family and I had the unique opportunity to enjoy a train trip when our children were younger which originated in Seattle, Washington, and took us through Oregon, Idaho, Nevada, Utah and concluded in Sacramento, California. We could all be found hanging out in the dome car absorbing the vistas. This particular vacation took place over Spring break and the Easter bunny did not disappoint and hid eggs and treasures within the train.

I have inhabited each of these cars countless times in my life and can move between them too in a thought or breath. Sensing into when I’m in need of moving and choosing a different seat in a new car. None of them are ever a wrong choice, I’m discovering, yet some feel as if someone might have left a wad of sticky gum behind. Asking to be peeled off thus enabling and encouraging me to keep my choice of where I’m perched fluid and in motion.

(My dad, a railroad man.)