If a tree could fly off, it would not suffer the saw.
The sun hurries all night to be back for morning.
Salty water rises in the air,
so the garden will be drenched with fresh rain.
A drop leaves home,
enters a certain shell, and becomes a pearl.
Joseph turns from his weeping father, toward Egypt.
Remember how that turned out.
Journeys bring power and love back into you.
If you cannot go somewhere, move in the passageways of the self.
They are like shafts of light, always changing,
and you change when you explore them.
–– Rumi, The Importance of Setting Out
Talking with a friend of mine, we discussed the logistics of writing about exploring the world when you aren’t presently out there traveling as much. But we’re all on a journey, aren’t we? Sometimes it’s waterfalls and mountaintops and coastal sunsets, sometimes it’s a poem that draws you into a corner of your soul that hadn’t previously explored. Writing about it every day, you end up blazing a trail you might follow back again someday, or offer to others who want to explore similar territory.
You notice changes in people when they’ve been on a journey. And you notice changes in yourself as well. Life is the processing of the changes we put ourselves through, the growth we see and feel as we move through the world. This world is beautiful and full of joyful encounters. This world is dark and on the verge of collapsing on itself in environmental disaster, war and plague. What do we do with the truth in both of those realities? We go out and experience it for ourselves, wrestle with what it means to us, and if you’re courageous publish it for the world to learn what you’ve been thinking about.
Who would want it otherwise?