I watch them move in tandem,

Seeming dislocated from humanity, moving to the trains oblivious of other humans, all humans, these ones oblivious that each person ignored has a story. Automatons, these suits, all of them, I think.

I do not know if the soul of the suit wearers is seared. Their eyes seem glazed over day in and out. They are in a perennial rush, looking harried in their Armani suits and Rolexes.

Driven by money, acquisition of the material. Driven insane by the ads that have convinced them of all they need. All weekend long, over their acquisitions, they still try EVERYTHING to fill the emptiness.

On the train, it was the #1 train, I think, the elderly woman’s purse fell and they walked right over her, some almost kicking her in their rush out of the train. No one of them stopped to help. They all pretended not to notice her despair.

I sit and tried to read my Bible through the bustle. Then I saw and tried to help the elderly woman but she looked at me like I was trying to rob her. She is in NY, maybe robbed in the past, poor woman.

I looked at my designer suit, all to be make clients happy, and looked at the lovely attache case which made me happy :).  Then, I looked at the hustle and bustle  and knew again that I did not belong to this bacchanalia. This is not what I want for my life. Peace reigns supreme in all and I am a child of God. So I went on my knees to him.

God is my peace. I asked him to lead me out.  And he did. HA

I went to my books, my first love, read researched and fell in love yet again with acquiring knowledge and the Law, my Law. I love the law and that is okay too. I am me.  Acknowledged for increased level of Mastery, satisfied to be using my mind and talents, devoid of the push of advertising and acquisition as commanded by society, as I strive for more in academic endeavor.

Here I am today. No rushing down Madison. Not perfect but I now stop and smell the flowers. I am glad.

God answers prayers. I wear the suit still but I CAN stop and help the older woman with the tipped over purse.

God is good.  Life is his own.

As for Madison avenue, now, I only visit as an observer on my way to catch a Broadway play dressed like a woman from the country side.  🙂