I’m sitting on the bus. It’s so quiet. The sky is transitioning from dusk to a deep dark blue.
It’s these quiet moments that send me into a thoughtful abyss. I muse to myself “I’m alone, I’m the only American…on a bus in a strange land,” the last Shangri-la, so far away from anything or anyone that makes me feel known, that feels familiar.
19oct24
Traveling, far, far away from where we came, hoping to, find the, lost or missing pieces of our selves, and, usually, we already, have those pieces we thought went missing, in our places of origins, we just, need to, venture out and away, for us to, realize that.
You’re right. We leave, thinking the world will give us something we lost. But most of the time, the things we need are where we started. It takes going far to understand that. You don’t find yourself on the road; you find what was always there, waiting. It’s simple, but not easy.
The only path worth our, traveling down, is never that easy, but, after we, endured through the trials that life and fate has to offer us, life becomes, meaningful, as we finally found the purpose of our, existence.
Life may not offer easy paths, but it’s not the path that makes it worth it—it’s how we walk it. Purpose isn’t something we find at the end, it’s something we carry with us along the way. Keep going, even when the road is rough.