[Last modified: November, 15 2024 12:53 PM]
The first destination from the moment my body stands on its two feet is The Underground. Liverpool Street. I’m on my way to class.
I start walking with a cigarette already drooping out of my mouth – my lighter is in hand, and I have timed my walk to the station to end so I can bin the filter before making my way to the entrance.
A moment of meditation, a warm-up… I am now immersed in cold, brisk air, walking on streets scattered with strangers – weaving my body between, through, and beside other bodies – gaze locked slightly forwards. I walk quickly enough to pass at least 25 people by, look both ways before crossing the street, consider the dystopian sense of the Broadgate Center and connect it to other places that allow similar feelings to arise: Dumbo (Brooklyn), Seaport (Boston), Taipei 101 (Taipei; somehow it feels less disjointed here…)
Smells of freshly baked bread and warm espresso become intense – Costa Coffee, Pret a Manger, M&S food – and follow me to the steps leading to the gate. The chatter of people is neutralised by my thoughts – Platform 2, tap to pay, up the stairs and down the stairs, one or two more minutes until I can sit down, lean my head on the glass nearest the doors. I’m used to being mindful of the direction people are heading – it reminds me of the unspoken rules of practice sessions on the ice, learning the patterns and form of training mates’ programs to better watch out and manoeuvre around them.
I’m focused on my internal sensations, bring my heart rate down through counting an 8-second exhale, filling my lungs from the front, side, and back – repeating until I reach Euston Square.
My commute is almost over – after tapping to log out of the Tube, I am practically on campus. A short 5-10 minute walk, and I have arrived.