Don Juan says” for me there is only travelling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel and the only worthwhile challenge is to travel full length. And there I travel looking breathlessly.” Not bad for old Don Juan.
For no journey caries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us it goes an equal distance into the world within. One’s destination is never a place but a new way of seeing things.
People are so focused on catching a flight, and it becomes the end all of existence. It is better to experience the flights of fantasy than restrain it.
There are times when I get lost in my thoughts you see it is an unfamiliar territory. The mind is never satisfied with the objects immediately before it, but is always breaking away from the present moment, and losing itself in schemes of future felicity… The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure to pleasure, but from hope to hope.
These mythical journey’s take me through various lands, I traveller with different authors through their various journeys both physical and metaphysical.
The challenge of the ocean, the mysteries of its dept. The bewildering wilderness of the vast sky. The haunting call of the jungle deep. They are so magnificent.
The changing topography of sparse dwellings to small villages, townships to towns, towns to cities, cities to countries, I travel, vending my ware placing road signs and landmarks as I traverse,
César Pavese is right when he says travelling is a brutality, it forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things –air, sleep, dreams, the sea and the sky—all these things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.””
Wandering establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and universe. ~ Antole France.
But alas, when the journey is over I am right back where I began from there was I had returned without needing the road signs!
All pathos and irony of leaving one’s youth behind is thus implicit in every joyous movement of travel: one knows that the first joy can never be recovered and the wise traveller learns not to repeat successes but tries new places all the time.