There are all these times and all these places haunting our memories. Will we ever escape the weight of everything pulling us back and make it to some new place of beginning? Time has a weight that drags on the shoulders, bending us down over the years we drag behind us as we travel these winding lanes on into the unknown lands of the future.
The past wraps itself around us, tying itself there with the ropes of memory. It is too hard to untie those knots and to let everything fall by the wayside. So we drag it all along behind us, growing heavier with every step as we take one more step deeper into the unknown lands.
Each step adds weight. We can only trudge on or fall by the wayside. We each have our own individual route to take. The maps we have, left by those who have travelled their own roads, are of limited use. They reassure only in the knowledge that others have travelled these roads before. All trudging on towards the same destination they never did reach and we know we will never reach either.
Of course, the wisdom and the understanding only will come slow, if it comes at all. A realisation that the destination so many seek – call it heaven or paradise, or whatever you want to call it – does not exist. Rather than the destination, it is the fact of travelling – the slow trudge of one step after another – that is the point of it. It is the journey, not the destination.
Then when we know this and understand it, we look up to see the wonders that lie all around us, on each side of the path. Only then does the load of the past seems much lighter and the step more sure, as understanding and knowledge make the weight of everything so much easier to bear.