Everything I Learned Once I Took My Headphones Off on the Tube

After moving to London almost one year ago, I quickly realized that my once 10-15 minute daily commute would almost quadruple in length. After all, the average Londoner’s daily commute is 47 minutes one-way, a painstaking 290 hours per year (the equivalent of 12 days). The Tube, sweltering hot in the summer and crowded to oblivion during rush hour, carries roughly 4 million people per day. In another lifetime, one less cluttered with media, I imagine that the Tube, like a pub or football match, was a communal gathering for fleeting moments of connection. Now, as I look around, almost every single commuter exists entirely in their own world, engulfed by the silence of their noise-cancelling headphones. 

I, a Gen Z with my own iPhone addiction, made a pact to solely read on the Tube in an attempt to avoid doom scrolling at 7am. In doing so, I began to notice the post-apocalyptic nature of noise-cancelling headphones. In a crowded Tube car filled with commuters sending emails, listening to podcasts, and disconnecting from the world entirely, there we were, sat directly face-to-face, avoiding eye contact. I realized that I had stood closer to some people on the Tube than I had on a first date, yet could count the number of conversations I’d had on one hand. 

Slowness

Although we often try to do anything to make time go by faster while commuting, there is a sort of beauty in the slowing down. By choosing to read, or to simply sit, the length of time between each stop seemed to double. I realized that I was not actually in the perpetual rush I felt that I was in. A moment to take a slow, deep breath in a world full of panting felt restorative.

Time Well Spent

What was once a 40 minute commute evolved into a peaceful haven for reading. I went from reading a book every month, to finishing one every week. It felt like time well spent. Still attuned to my surroundings – able to hear station announcements or notice if someone needed a seat – I was able to reduce my screen time drastically and consume a far more nourishing kind of media.

Openness to Connection

Without my headphones, I managed to share moments of real connection with fellow commuters on the Tube – like laughing together with an elderly man across from me as we eavesdropped on a nearby conversation (one certainly unfit for public ears). I’ve also exchanged book recommendations and reviews with readers alike – some encouraging me to finish the book I was reading, admitting that the middle dragged but the ending was worth it. These moments, however small, made me feel as though I actually existed in London, rather than somewhere on the outside of it.

In the end, we all are simply just trying to get to where we are going. The Tube, however unglamorous, hot, and expensive it may be, is a beautiful mosaic of commuters, once you allow yourself to see it.

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