The two images above have a couple things in common: one, they were both discovered while out exploring local trails; two, they are both train tracks. Yes, I know, one of them doesn’t really look like train tracks, but when we stumbled upon it after a very early, somewhat long jaunt through the forest, my trail companion said, “Oh look, train tracks.” It’s become a bit of a joke that gets revisited frequently as we explore, but as I was going through photos today, it got me thinking. Okay, technically I was struggling with writer’s block and in my distraction I texted said companion the photo. He responded with, “Both. Different kinds of trains.” Haha. Oh wait, that’s actually kind of brilliant.
We often assume the tracks we choose in our lives are what matters. What type? Which direction? How do we know if it’s the right kind of track?
What if the important factor isn’t the track, but the train?
Imagine you’re chugging along on a particular track, be it a career or a some sort of personal goal. Everything is going smooth, making progress, and then an obstacle comes along, one that, for the sake of argument, can’t be plowed through or gone over. Do you change tracks? Or do you change trains? Do you change yourself?
In major life shifts maybe we do both; we change tracks, type or direction, but we also have to adapt ourselves to the new environment. Maybe we figure out a way to stay on the same track, but we realize we still need a new, or different, train. And sometimes what we might really need is to attach ourselves to an already existing train that’s headed in the direction we should go.
I hate change. As I consider upcoming career shifts I’m scared. Insecurities abound: is the timing right? Will I disappoint people? Will I be needed/wanted/valued in a new environment? The possible tracks seem shrouded in fog and I’m not sure my little engine has the power necessary to climb forward. My train has to both adapt and believe in itself, but also draw some power from a stronger aid. Breaking one old connection and attaching more firmly to another that will pull me along. There’s a mix of fear and comfort…competing often in equal measure. But if I can’t clearly see what kind of track lies ahead, I can at least work on changing the train.
Girl with Dog 