Jared's article connected with me as I've often turned to crowds to find peace. The subway, el, metro, metra, bart, or T can encourage retrospection. I'm curious what y'all think as I tried to reach out to friends who have lived in a few different cities.

It resonates...but with my experience riding Seoul's subway. I think because Korean culture is, at its core, much more communal than America's - especially in DC.

Also, I think that the therapeutic aspect is only true if you're not in any particular rush to get somewhere (like work, or home). If you're trying to get somewhere, WMATA's constant delays, failures and crowded cars is anything but therapy.

More of a walker myself. It slows things down; I find the world is easier to consume when you're moving at a slower pace.

There's interesting reading to be done on the relationship between speed, movement, and cognition. This runs from de Certeau and Walter Benjamin and to Thoreau. For interesting but also non-moralizing statements on the relationship between speed and cognition in modern era, see Anthony Giddens. If you're off the deep end, there's always Paul Virilio.

There is an intimacy to riding the subway/metro, in part because of the culture and sense of pace. When walking, I am alone. At most I'll nod at a passer by. I can't speak to Korean culture, but in DC, even during commutes, some people don't expend the energy to wear a mask on the train. Often, people are still waking up or too tired from a long day to pretend.

People reveal themselves through moments, such as the ones Jared described, but there is no expectation that I have to reciprocate. I can observe. This helps me settle and reflect.

The speed of the train has a similar effect as the car on my family's mini-dachshund, it relaxes her. I am not focused on my surroundings, rather myself and my immediate and transient neighbors.

These are all lovely comments. Randall, I've actually been reading some Giddens on speed and cognition since I filed my original essay on Monday on my personal site.

Noah's point about the lack of an expectation to reciprocate is important, I think. A commenter on the Atlantic Cities post posed the situation of someone crying on the subway: do you get involved? If so, is it the same sort of 'subway therapy'? At that juncture, the atmosphere of civil inattention collapses. I think subways run on salutary neglect: the implicit acknowledgement that a person exists and that we're both going to ignore each other. It's a weird type of intimacy, built on being in the same confined space and silently agreeing to leave each other alone.

Like Jared, I also grew up riding the T and now deal with (but mostly avoid) the NYC Subway. I have occasionally found myself meditating and thinking about the uniqueness of the experience. However, I personally don't find it particularly cathartic.

What is just as interesting as the mediative, transient or intimate qualities some experience, is what happens when that is interrupted. There is noticeable shift in energy when a train is delayed, when people argue, or when someone is talking loudly on their phone.

So, since riding public transportation has become a necessary part of so many people's daily routines, what other implicit agreements do you think we follow to avoid creating anxious situations?