I got on the train and sat down on a two-person seat. As the train filled up, a forty-something man in a suit sat next to me. I was still traumatized from taking the wrong train the week before. So I asked him, “Is this the Gladstone train?”
He replied, “Yes.”
Waves of relief ran through me. “Thank you,” I said. Then I pulled out my laptop and started typing.
He asked “What do you do?”
We chatted about each other’s professions. He works at a financial services firm and is the lead of a technology group. I asked him a ton of questions about it. As he spoke, I realized that this is a man who is advanced in his career (he has been in technology for 15+ years now), and incredibly knowledgeable on the finance industry.
When the conductor came around to check train passes the man noticed my stop was unfamiliar to him. “Where is Millington?” he wondered aloud.
I glanced at his pass and answered, “It’s much further down from Millburn, your stop.”
I found that he could list all the stops from the beginning of the line up to Millburn. But he had no idea what came after. I could recite about eight more stops, up to Millington. But I could not tell you what came after.
Soon, we arrived at Millburn and he got up to leave. We exchanged names and said a friendly goodbye.
Afterwards, I sat there thinking about what happened. It seems like the knowledge we can accumulate is limited by what we experience.
If this is true, then we must travel farther, seek out new experiences, and push our limits to the very end. Because where we never go, we will never know.