If I spend all my time looking in the rearview of my life, I can be going in reverse while simultaneously experiencing the rather convincing illusion that I’m going forward.

How often have I painted a splendid picture of a journey marked by courageous ascents and daring desert crossings when all along all I’ve really been doing is running?

For life to afford us a truly new road, particularly a road of wonder and hope, we must have any remnants of the old road removed lest we are tempted to take them up yet again. And if they cannot be removed, they must be made so undesirable that nothing would behoove us to ever take them.

One day I found myself sitting utterly exhausted and wholly spent from this failed journey to secure everything that I wanted. And when the tears abated and my vision finally cleared, I was astounded to find that I had always been surrounded by everything that I needed. And I have not cried since.

The journey driven by the winds of greed are certain to run aground on the shoals of suffering.

Preparation for a journey is little more than being in ‘love’ with the idea of adventure. But being ‘committed’ to the idea of adventure means actually getting up and walking. And that might explain why our shoes seldom wear out.

I’m not looking for a road to walk. Rather, I’m looking for a path to create. For creating a path shapes men, while walking a road simply appeases them.

I have never walked the broad byways of life without eventually regretting the fact that I foolishly bypassed those slight paths obscured by the tangled overgrowth of life. For in doing so I swapped adventure for apathy.

The road with no signage is the road that has yet to be tamed by men. And as such, it remains a road when all the others have become parking lots.