Go West Young Man

We begin our journeys, frequently on the advice and directions of others, with only a vague inkling of what we want and where we're going. For some, distractions come and the quest ends as a forgotten memory, merely days or weeks of a walk away. Then unintended roots cling to the bedrock, denying any dreams of unknown western wonders. Others find themselves face to rock face, stretching miles high, blotting their ambitions and stymying their trek. Fighting against the unforgiving wall, betrayed by the directions they unyieldingly trusted, frustrated by the futility of their efforts, surrender arrives quickly and settles in for the long haul. Some hold the westward mantra so close to their eyes that it obscures all else, until they've run out of land and find breath hard to come by, while they continue their stroll, deep into the ocean. Lost souls, seeking comfort from empty eyed fish and voiceless clams.

Our compasses are here to let us know where we're going, not to tell us where to go. As we travel through the unknown and encounter the unexpected, we must seek to make modifications to our itineraries. Sometimes, to get west, we must first trod north or south. As we head to our promised paradise, we may find greater treasures, more potent purposes or unrivaled relations. These offer other paths, give us new goals or beg us to stay. As we ingest each new landscape, the horizons in our minds broaden and our appreciation for the journey, itself, blossoms. We learn as we travel, collecting wisdom while we walk. Our aspirations evolve, as we learn and mature. And the boundaries between ourselves, others and the land, steadily erode.

The means and ends that propelled us forth, from those earliest dreams and days, are replaced by new visions of just what we want, as we meander more meaningful ways.