We stumbled along the desert floor, laughing and trying our best to forget- the inevitable return to normal life after this weekend-getaway trip. I was caught up in mind games trying to convince myself that the little things didn't matter, and trying to take a mental picture of the immense clay rocks obstructing our view of the stark blue sky. Breaths were wild and hair was free. Bodies were sweating, but a mutual satisfaction fluttered around us. An elderly man dressed in mud-covered hiking boots met us on the rocky uphill.
"Hello sir,
would you mind telling us how much further till we finish?"
With a mix of mischievous and friendly, he turned and laughed heartily, explaining that we had many- an-hour ahead of us. But he followed that with one of those profound truths that reaches deep into your heart and burns a memory into it.
"The destination is the Journey."
I was caught totally off guard and my mind dove into the phrase and tried to unearth every possible meaning out of those words. The destination is the journey. Does that mean I am already AT my destination? I am guilty of looking constantly to the future. Hoping that one day.... One day.... All of my dreams will come true and all of the endings will be happy ones. So why should I fret? Why should I worry? Or be caught up in future hopes and dreams- when I am LIVING a dream right now? As my roomie Molly would put it "Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a gift. That's why it's called the present."
