Walking Between the Tracks Remembering the Art of Conscious Participation For much of my life, I enjoyed walking on what many would call the wrong side of the tracks. Not because I wanted to destroy anything. Not because I wanted to rebel simply for the sake of rebellion. Something within me questioned whether what everyone agreed upon must automatically be true. Curiosity kept inviting me beyond the familiar, and so I wandered. I found myself among the outsiders. The rebels. The artists. The addicts. The seekers. The misunderstood. The people society often called misfits. Ironically, I became a misfit among…