I love the journey. There is so much to see along the path, from birth till death.
Things such as the swaying of a delicate flower that blooms just the very day you are passing its location, stories of the eons gone by that the mountains are so eager to tell - if only someone would pause long
enough to listen to them, the silent glide of a hawk catching the rising air looking for its next meal. These are but a fraction missed by so many as they race with tunnel vision and a deceived sense of urgency to their destination at speeds beyond human. Theirs is a lonely, devoid road consisting only of points, points that are to be arrived at with minimal waste of time so that they can set off to the next point, only to repeat the process over and over.
Their reward is the fleeting satisfaction of arriving in record time, and to nurse their ulcer just long enough to launch them to the next point.
One of the big lies meant to keep us in bondage is that the journey, the time spent between points of departure and arrival, is just a thing to be tolerated, to be eventually eliminated by the quantum molecular transporter. But the truth is the journey is where life is, is where life happens.
It is where you find who you really are, where you are and how to live. The destination is not the prize but the place where you can rest and get ready for the next journey, the next fantastic experience.
- The Journey of Life