Forward, Backward: Bodies (and Lives) in Motion

This morning I rode backward from Trenton, N.J., to Philadelphia, Pa.  No, I wasn’t seated on a train; I was riding in a car. I know, it’s not the usual posture or direction when riding as a passenger of an automobile.  Usually there are only two of us on this run, but since there were three this time and I was the youngest, I moved over to the rear facing seat behind the driver.

As I rode I contemplated the notion of moving backward as time moves forward.  I considered the question, Does moving forward in a backward position actually return time to us, erase the passage of time, allow us to retrace steps we have previously taken? 

When I commuted daily on the New Jersey Transit Northeast Corridor train or as a pastime rode the PATH into New York City, I always avoided the rear-facing seats.  Call it vertigo, call it whatever, I always found that motion intolerable, sometimes even nauseating.  Occasionally out of necessity (translate that into I desperately needed to sit down at the end of a long workday), I would sit in the backwards seat, but it usually took all my inner strength to not get sick, physically or otherwise.  In fact, I would try to position myself so that I was not quite fully facing backwards, that I would be kind of sideways so it would seem like a lazy or quasi-forward facing ride.  Once a regular forward facing seat would become available, I’d quickly move to it. 

This morning when I first took the rear-facing seat I actually considered for a moment asking the driver if I could sit up front with him.  But then I quickly dismissed the idea and hoped for the best.  As it turned out, between a few moments of closed eyes here and there, I examined this notion of forward and backward movement further.  We’ve all heard, at one time or another, the expression “One step forward, two (or three or five or ten) steps back” when we are faced with an unexpected detour along our journey to a goal.  Usually the steps backward are seen as losses, representing greater distance between the present moment and the desired goal.  I thought for quite some time about backwards motion, about riding in a rear-facing seat, and even about living life in reverse. 

Does riding backwards, facing where we have been rather than casting our gaze on where we are headed, still move us forward? 

I think there’s a reason why riding backwards, sitting in a rear-facing seat, feels unnatural:  It’s not (for me) a natural state of being -- physical, psychic, or physiological.  It’s not the typical direction we take as we journey through life, as we make our way toward a goal.  No, it’s not quite the same as taking a step back or living life in reverse, and while it doesn’t really give us back time or opportunity, it certainly changes our perspective, our particularly point of view, on where we are headed, on the very nature and dynamic of our life journeys, both the big one and the small ones. Generally speaking, we are made to move forward, both figuratively and literally.

Today’s ride taught me valuable lessons:  Looking back is not the same as going backwards, and not all backwards facing motion is bad.  Looking backwards for me is not a place where I can or should dwell, but it’s a perspective that I should periodically take to gain new insights as I consider not what I am leaving behind but where I am moving from to reach my new destination.

What are some of the lessons you’ve learned by moving forward and going backwards about bodies (and lives) in motion?