Spiritual Inertia

I was standing in a resting train, which is ironic, as I was on-board for my final rest. I was alone in the railroad car, untethered to life, no wrist strap from which to secure myself. Since "you can't take it with you," I wasn't holding on to anything.

Destination? Who knew?

When the train began to move, only my feet moved with it, but my body fell behind. I stumbled backward. My conscience, in contrast, had no feet and it hit the wall.

Or did the wall hit my conscience?

Or were my conscience and the train back wall meant to be conjoined, and some ethereal physics simply finalized the prophecy?

This required considerable thought.

The air (æther?) in the train moves when the engine engages, moving back a little as it sloshes to the back, although I know that that very same air, eventually, will accelerate.

All this time I thought my conscience worked in a vacuum. I thought it was private, intangible, immoveable. Now I know that all my parts, including my spiritual parts, are affected by momentum, defying inertia. Defying the very air I seem to still be breathing.

And defying relativity:

I see others on other trains through their car windows—seemingly faster or backwards, and my own motion is bemusing.

I don't know where I'm heading, but somehow I bought the ticket.

The æther will stabilize at some point, and my spirit will drift back as it expands between the wall and me.

But it takes time for the air to keep up, accrue on its springboard, and snap me back to the middle of the car where my feet are still firmly anchored. But the æther—my very breathlessness—won't accelerate it as much as the train. The external forces of good and evil are at work. There are track switches ahead as the rail splits toward different destinations.

This railroad is the track of my life, with stops—selected in the past—driving the rail switches now.

The train comes to a stop. My spirit drifts back, forward, in a reverse of how I had started. Do I get off here? Is looks like here and now, as before, I have a choice.