Think of a destination. Any prized destination. The journey might be long, perhaps difficult; perhaps it might seem to offer both of those qualities before it has even begun. There are, let us suppose, mountains in this imagining, forests, rivers impossible to cross, false paths, maps that prove suddenly unreliable. Or maybe this is a city on a rainy evening - no taxis, the public transport's on strike, the instant umbrella stands have all sold out. You left your coat at home this morning.
And yet, despite all you believe about the journey, despite all you bring to it and feel that you have failed to bring to it, you hold to the belief that the destination justifies the journey. The struggle will be worthwhile. So you set out, not looking back, braving the rain, over the first obstacles, into the all-absorbing task that is the journey. You keep your face to the wind in the way that an early navigator would have kept, let's say, the sun in his eyes. Before this tangle of obstacles came into being.
Then, perhaps, you arrive. The destination is everything that it promised to be. It is not quite as it is depicted in your maps, nor is it quite as you expected. You are, perhaps, just a little - surprised? But you can rest now, ease the aches, perhaps find an audience for all your stories about your journey. You are here, after a life of feeling yourself to be there.
The people you meet here - some of them have lived here all their lives. Some of them found a short cut to get here; they came by the easier journey. Most of them want to hear your stories of the journey, but over time, you are surprised to detect that their real interest is in the place where you began. "Tell us where you came from," they say. And you do.
And in your heart, another journey begins.
And yet, despite all you believe about the journey, despite all you bring to it and feel that you have failed to bring to it, you hold to the belief that the destination justifies the journey. The struggle will be worthwhile. So you set out, not looking back, braving the rain, over the first obstacles, into the all-absorbing task that is the journey. You keep your face to the wind in the way that an early navigator would have kept, let's say, the sun in his eyes. Before this tangle of obstacles came into being.
Then, perhaps, you arrive. The destination is everything that it promised to be. It is not quite as it is depicted in your maps, nor is it quite as you expected. You are, perhaps, just a little - surprised? But you can rest now, ease the aches, perhaps find an audience for all your stories about your journey. You are here, after a life of feeling yourself to be there.
The people you meet here - some of them have lived here all their lives. Some of them found a short cut to get here; they came by the easier journey. Most of them want to hear your stories of the journey, but over time, you are surprised to detect that their real interest is in the place where you began. "Tell us where you came from," they say. And you do.
And in your heart, another journey begins.