This morning I found myself in the arms of a West African man who was listening 2face idibia (a favorite West African artist of mine) on the New York subway. I was taking the 4 express train to work and found myself literally pushed into the train cart with one small pole space to hang onto in front of me… and in front of this man.
In public space in New York, I always dream up hugging strangers randomly as I’m walking down the street. You know those people who exist side-by-side with you and you get a warm, unexplainable, vibe that you can’t explain? I always want to hug them. And, sometimes people who look sad too. But sometimes that seems scarier, because not everyone who is sad wants to be hugged.
Anyway, all of a sudden it seemed appropriate on this subway to be in the arms of a stranger. I looked straight forward (mostly because I couldn’t move my neck) and so many other random people found themselves in the arms of so many other random people.
For a moment I thought: wow, how beautiful is this stuffy, crammed, public space, of arbitrariness where the rules of the streets and society seemed to fly outside of the doors as quickly as the train glides from track to track?
In this cart, a Saudi Arabian diplomat could sit next to a pregnant, orthodox Jewish bakery owner, and a Nigerian rapper, and somehow it was all ok. This box created some altered universe where colors and origins and lifestyles blended together so that people wouldn’t be late to work.
And it all played to the soundtrack of public music that came in the form of obtrusive, insensitive, head phone blasting. From the man whose arms I remained in for all 7 minutes of the ride, and the headphones of the lady sitting 3 feet in front of me, and the girl with a short blonde bob that matched the bobbing motion of her head to whatever she was listenin’ to (I wanted to know! I wanted to bob). Since the invention of iPods and headphones people have been so sensitive about private music space – but space is all of ours to share. We share the air, we should share the music too.
The doors opened and a huge mob fell out of the automatic subway door all parting ways subscribing to their various norms of life and the rules we set for ourselves, and I just had to wonder, “What if the rules of the subway, were applied to life?”
I wish that time was determined by people that we love, so that the more we loved someone the longer every minute would be with them. That way if we were with our moms, time would pass really slowly. But if we were with someone really mean who we didn't like - like the boss who yells all the time for no reason or demands a re-do of tasks 10 times, time would go really quickly. 
