Bookmark #380

If you want to start walking down an uncharted path, and all paths walked in the spirit of your own unique experience are uncharted, you will want to let the weight down before you begin. There will be plenty of resistance from the get-go; it helps to travel light. How far can you drag all the weight before the single, taut rope starts to cut into your shoulder and hand? You must let it all down; everything that once was is no more, and you are alone. It was a blessing, even if it did not feel like it at first. On resistance, there will be others who will not understand. You will hear the echo through the woods, the anxiety of danger, an inkling of someone peering at you. A hive mind of collective misunderstanding will wait for you in the shadows, every day and every night, ready with a pitchfork or two. You must keep walking.

You must walk through the sound, the unease, the loneliness. It was going to be a long hike from when you began, and you may have to walk years before you get lucky. It was all in getting lucky. Many have walked toward this untravelled unknown, and many have disappeared. But if you did get lucky, and if you kept walking, you would reach the clearing. The clearing is where you will build a home. You will go to sleep, and you will open your eyes one day, well-rested and true. There would be happiness, and there would be joy, and the light will play a game of peekaboo with your face as the curtains wave back and forth. The breeze will be soft, and it will slowly enter the room and gently wake you up. It was the only reward there was: a good night’s sleep.

But first, you must walk, and for it, you must let go. The woods are dark and filled with terror, but there is a light in the clearing—flowers grow there.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here