In which I manage to pick up

You get to experience a strong sense of the culture of place when you travel by public transport.

Today at the local station, a young chap was struggling with a large bag and a guitar. The train was the occasional branch service, not the frequent main line service. He was hobbling - it looked like he either had blisters or a sprained ankle - and he was clearly worried that the train would go before he was aboard. Here in Melbourne, the doors close 30 seconds before the train leaves, so it was a very real risk.  His guitar strap came lose and fell to the ground in the rush. He saw it fall, saw the train about to leave, made a regretful face and kept hobbling.

I wasn't in a hurry, and without thinking I called, "Keep going, I'll get it." I bent down, picked up the strap, took two long steps toward the train and shoved it through the doors just before they closed.  I was rewarded with a big smile and a look of huge relief, as the train chugged off.

The key to this scenario was not any particular virtue on my part. It's just that, unlike the other commuters, I wasn't so caught up in an internal monologue of What I Need To Do Next, and How Late I Am For Work or even Which Tropical Island I Wish I Was On Right Now (insert your preferred rumination). At the risk of sounding all Zen, I was actually Present - in that particular moment, at least - and the action arose naturally out of my awareness of what was going on here and now.

In retrospect, I find it rather sad that the young man was so surprised someone would help him.