Dear Editor,

I have enjoyed your paper and its simple advice for some time. It is nice to read about others and their paths to enlightenment and happier living. By hearing about others’ attempts it offers the strength to find our own path.

This is why I would like to submit the following piece about my path to a happier state of mind. It is about my commute, the bus and a slower pace. Please enjoy.

Anton Rick-Ossen, Hartford, Connecticut

There were countless evenings in the past, when I’d come in the front door from work, anxious, tired and agitated. I would search for a quick bite of food, hoping that would calm me down. I would run around while my cat meowed at me, also telling me to slow down, relax and more importantly, feed him. No matter what, coming in the front door, I felt too much anxiety to slow down and relax. An hour would pass before I could sit calmly and enjoy a nice meal. Then without intention, I was forced to slow down.

It was a cold winter day when I found myself sharing a car with my wife. She had been taking the bus for some time and it became obvious that it just wasn’t fair for her to take the bus all of the time if I could take the bus some of the time, in her stead. So I did. One divergent morning, I left my house early and embarked upon what would be a slower physical and metaphysical path. What was once a fifteen-minute car ride over the bridge became a forty-five minute bus ride through the city, with a transfer downtown.

While the physical change of pace came quickly, the spiritual pace and my circling emotions took their time to unwind. For several weeks I still felt that anxiety I felt when commuting by car. I would find myself on the bus asking, "Why isn’t this bus moving faster? Why are so many people getting on and off of the bus? Why are we stopping so often?" After years of speeding along the highway, my anxiety had developed a firm grip and wouldn’t let go so easily.

Despite the nagging nerves, I made a commitment to my wife, so I continued taking the bus. I began bringing the newspaper. Some days I brought a book and other days my iPod. All of a sudden, I realized that I was enjoying myself. My commute had become an event to which I looked forward. There I would be, in the middle of a good book, excited to get back on the bus to see how the story would unfold. Or I would be into to a new album and looking forward to a good listen without interruption.

Even on days when my wife didn’t need the car, I found myself on the bus. It was there that I finally found a place to relax. I wasn’t on the highway, looking over my shoulder, changing lanes and speeding along. I wasn’t racing to intersections trying to beat red lights. I wasn’t stuck in traffic, getting cut off by drivers on their cell phones. There was no one there to answer to but myself and it was sublime. I could read, mingle with my music, follow my thoughts or just enjoy the sights.

Now my wife and I own a second car and it is a great help on days when we both need to go somewhere that isn’t on the bus line. But days when I can take the bus, I always do. And when I return home, I come in the front door, relaxed, happy, smiling and ready for whatever my cat or my wife has on their mind, especially if it's dinner.