For the past couple days I have been thinking a lot about the word "journey." It is a word that I intended on writing about yesterday, but it seems that my own journey got in the way. I once read that to journey means to move forward with courage. Yesterday I risked everything to follow my truth. And, in doing so, everything and nothing has changed. It's funny how things have a way of working out like that.
This past week I have been thinking about Jamie's writing prompt for 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women. Where am I on my journey? The terrain has shifted so many times in the past several months that, right now, I am finding the need to stop and take in my surroundings. From here, it appears beautiful and strenuous, like a good place to rest and get ready for what's next, all at once.
There is a saying, "the journey is the destination." Today I am feeling those words for all they are worth. I am feeling my journey from the inside out.
As Confucius once said: "Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart."
And I am reminding myself that the rest will take care of itself. Life itself is such a strange journey. And I've decided that an authentic life is the strangest journey of all.