Hello dear Hivers,
Commuting daily has become more than just getting from point A to point B for me—it’s a journey full of small discoveries, human connections, and lessons. When I wake up early, waiting at the bus stop or jeepney terminal, I see the world still quiet, the air cooler, people half-awake, their eyes hidden behind shades or newspapers. Then, as the sun rises, the roads begin to fill up. The commuters pour in: students, office workers, vendors, old folks, mothers dragging children, folks with backpacks, women balancing groceries. Each one seems to carry a story.
On my way to work, I’ve met people who smile at strangers; I’ve encountered those lost in thought, headphones on, music or podcasts their only companions. A vendor calls out, “Sari-sari store,” or “Got water?”—little voices trying to share something with everyone. In the middle of the rush, when the jeepney or bus slows down among traffic, I look out the window and notice ordinary things: an old bahay batik-batik (house with peeling paint), children skipping along pavements; someone struggling under heavy bags; merchants arranging their goods along sidewalks. Small moments like these move me—they remind me of life outside the bubble of my workplace or home.
Commuting lets me see how people cope: those who stand patiently, moving closer when space is scarce; others who bargain or argue their way into a better seat; some who help a stranger find a spot or give way. You learn about kindness, impatience, compassion—all in one ride. Some mornings are quiet, calm; other days, the heat suffocates, or the rain makes everything soggy, or traffic slows everything to a crawl. But even in those frustrating times, I find something to appreciate—a cool breeze through an open window, a persuasive sunset over the city skyline, the sound of wheels rolling, or conversations here and there.
Also, being a commuter has made me more disciplined. I learn to plan: what time to leave, which route to take, how much extra time to give just in case. I carry essentials—an umbrella, water, maybe a book or my phone fully charged—just so the journey isn’t entirely lost time. Sometimes I catch up on reading, send messages, reflect, or just watch the city wake up. There’s a meditative quality in the routine: the knowing of familiar stops, the faces that sometimes repeat themselves. The woman who always takes the same jeepney, the driver who nods his head in greeting, the children heading to school, the vendors setting up their stalls.
At the end of the day, when I travel back home tired, I feel fulfilled. I have seen a piece of many lives; I have witnessed tiny moments of good and bad, of patience and of rush. Commuting teaches gratitude—it makes me thankful for simple comforts, for the place I’m going home to, for people who share the journey. It builds character, resilience, humility.
So yes, I really enjoy being a commuter not just for the destination, but for all the moments in between. The people, the scenes, the reflections they make daily life rich and more alive than I ever thought possible.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Until mu next blog- much love you, Hivers
Photo template: @Capcut
