Breathing Room

I just submitted this little story as an example of a "compromising situation" I'd been in, and how I overcame it. It's a pretty significant memory for me, so I figured now's as good a time as any to share it. The end is a bit preachy, if you will, but remember it was for an application.

Last May, I spent a week exploring Italy. We planned to take an overnight train from Rome into Milan. Nothing seemed challenging in the slightest. Yet when the train pulled up to the platform, I noticed that it was a bit crowded. Once inside, my observations were strikingly reassured by an incredible condensation of human beings. A narrow pathway (no more than 3 feet wide) was barely navigable under the immense traffic flow. I was with two friends, who I feared for immediately. One in particular I knew may be in danger of a severe panic attack. Perspiration, heat, and foreign odors followed us every inch. Every cabin we passed was dark and silent, each seat occupied by a passenger fast asleep. I remember looking backward and into my friend’s eyes. She was clearly agitated and uncomfortable with what we’d gotten ourselves into. The train eventually began moving and we were forced to make the most of what we had. Unfortunately what we had was barely enough breathing room for each of us. We were in Italy, none of us spoke the language, and we had a plane to catch early the next morning. Even if an alternative existed, we had no way of finding it. So we rode the train.

I placed a small piece of luggage underneath me and propped it up as a chair; the hall was so thin my kneecaps pressed against the opposite wall. My right thigh rested on my companion’s leg, and my left leaned on that of a stranger’s. We had eight hours ahead of us and falling asleep wasn’t really an option. I knew I could make it; I knew I’d have to. I’m great at seeing the glass half full, shedding light on the bright side and uncovering the optimism, in even the most compromising of situations. And I knew that my friends, at least those who traveled with me, weren’t always so wide eyed under these circumstances. It was important to stay collected and confident if only for my companion’s to see. Motivation is often key in times like these.

About half way through we exited the train for a ten-minute stop in Florence. The warm air felt like ice against my burning skin. I saw my friend approaching me, and I knew immediately what was coming. Her limit. She had reached her breaking point. I know now that there are times when reaching your limit doesn’t always mean the end. It just means that you can’t necessarily do it alone. I gave her a hug. She’d been squeezed between two unhygienic Italian men who’d been kind with their words but forward with their eyes. It was enough to make her feel even more uncomfortable than leaning on a window for four hours already had. When we boarded the train again I stayed close to her. My situation wasn’t much different, yet being a man I was spared any unsavory stares. I tried to talk her through the rest of our journey, about everything and anything that was better than that moment, all the places we’d seen, and were going to see. And eventually we made it.

Looking back, it was certainly the most compromising situation I’d ever been in, both mentally and physically. And what got me through it was nothing short of confidence and communication. Once I was able to secure those two elements, motivating those around me came easy. Perhaps it’s a recipe for a sticky situation, but I believe it be a formula fit for any given day.