Riding The Midnight Train

For many years, Matt Haig has been one of my favorite authors. He wrote amazing novels, such as The Humans (2013), How to Stop Time (2019) and The Midnight Library (2020), an international bestseller. Also, he wrote insightful nonfiction focusing on his recovery from depression and his ongoing pursuit of personal growth. Examples include Notes from a Nervous Planet (2018) and The Comfort Book (2021), another bestseller. I admire his ability to describe various aspects of the human struggle and our capacity to move toward a more hopeful future.

His most recent novel, The Midnight Train (2026), is not to be confused with The Midnight Library. There are similar themes found in each book, such as what occurs immediately after we die; however, there is a significant difference. In his earlier work, Haig envisioned the main character entering a mysterious library upon her death, where each book represented a different life she could have lived if she made different choices along the way. It is a story of regrets and new perspectives. In The Midnight Train, our hero, Wilbur Budd, finds himself on a train following his death, making numerous stops at key points in his life to help him understand the meaning of his life. And yes, Wilbur experiences many regrets, too. Don't we all? Perhaps it's a natural part of the human experience.

I love this novel for many reasons, mostly for Wilbur's expanding awareness as his train ride continues, but also for the powerful start of his trip. As Wilbur first catches his reflection upon boarding the train, he sees himself as he was when he felt himself to be his "true self." For him, this was during his honeymoon. He was in love, had a scheduled appointment to secure a bank loan to expand his bookstore, and believed a wonderful world was unfolding for him after surviving a bleak past. Finding a point in my life during which I was my true self is not an easy task. It is easier to see when I was not my true self, such as working in jobs which forced me to be someone far from my true self. Probably I was my true self when I felt fully engaged in life, comfortable in my own skin thanks to being around wise, supportive individuals, and to quote Albert Einstein, "passionately curious" to learn new things. One such time was in 1979 when I was a second-year, social work intern in Grant Hospital's Alcoholism Treatment Program. Most of my previous experience was working with children in residential care, so shifting to counseling adults with alcoholism was initially a huge, anxiety-producing challenge, but within a month, I realized my new career path was the right one for me. A more recent example was twelve years ago, when I enrolled in a Victories for Men weekend program. Prior to getting involved, I sensed I was missing something in my life (see my May 2026 blog, "Looking for Something"). It was initially fearful to be open and vulnerable in sharing my experiences with other men, yet quickly I found a community to support my growth toward greater self-awareness and authenticity. When have you experienced your true self? What factors were present when life whispered in your ear, "Here is the way," and did you take the path?

During Wilbur's wild ride, he recognizes a drive which shaped his life. In an all-out effort to be financially successful, he pays a significant price, including a failed marriage, neglected friendships, and a joyless life. This overemphasis on one's work identity is quite common, especially for men. For Wilbur, operating a popular bookstore is not enough, so he launches a chain of bookstores to increase his profits. Along the way, he loses his moral compass and shifts from a lover of books to become a businessman focusing exclusively on profit-loss margins. Trying to prove himself a success leads to him forgetting to be himself. For those of us working in the social services, we are rarely driven by the pursuit of financial gains because these are so limited, especially for entry-level counselors. However, as one rises within an organization into administrative positions, many of us begin to feel far removed from our original desire to help people in need. This may even occur for those who open private, clinical practices. While they are still directly counseling clients, they may become driven to increase their caseloads to meet rising expenses for maintaining a practice, which may result in professional burnout and social isolation from family, friends, and colleagues. What were your initial reasons for doing the work you do? How have your reasons changed along your career? How do you maintain a sense of work-life balance? How do you prevent burnout?

Wilbur also learns that many of his life decisions revolved around avoiding emotional pain, including the death of his father in World War Two and the resulting poverty of his childhood. This fear of facing his past trauma leads to running away from other issues which may cause him pain, such as his deteriorating marriage. In his train journey, he finds that the more he pulls away from his issues, the more they manifest themselves at different points in his life. This is another classic core issue for many of us. Old hurts leave scars and sometimes open, unhealed wounds. We may tell ourselves that we have moved on and that the past is the past; but how often does unresolved grief return to haunt us? In Narrative Therapy, we learn that our stories are not only shaped by the events of our lives, but also by our own interpretations of those events. Recently, I found the word "phobophobia," which is the fear of fear. Once we develop a habit of fearing pain, conflict, failure, and more, we may simply start fearing fear itself. That is not to suggest there is no place for fear in our lives because fear is a natural emotion and can serve to protect us. However, when has fear blocked you from living the life you would like to live? What would you do right now if you had no fear?

During his life review, Wilbur is told quite clearly by his guide that since his death, he cannot influence his life any longer. He may only observe it and hopefully come to understand its meaning. Yet, he also encounters a rebellious spirit who tells him, "To live life well you need to know when to ignore what is expected of you, even if it means breaking the rules." For many of us, me included, this is a tricky lesson to learn. Early in life, our families and schools train us to conform to rules and expectations. Later in life, work settings reenforce this. Don't rock the boat. If you stray too far from the norm, you will suffer considerable pressure to get back in line. But sometimes, our moral compass tells us to choose differently this time. On three separate occasions, I chose to rebel against what was happening within my workplace. In one situation, I was fired. In two others, I gave my notice and left. Each time, I felt relieved and energized for doing the right thing. When have you chosen to break a rule or expectation to stay true to yourself? How did it turn out for you?

In conclusion, I hope you check out Matt Haig's The Midnight Train. While riding along with Wilbur Budd, you might see glimpses of your own life.