This month has been a journey across two continents and five countries. We have traveled over borders, down medieval city streets, across seas and mountain ranges. We have wandered down narrow cobblestone alleys centuries old. The journey has been a reminder that this life is but a journey with each day evidence to a kind of marvel. The journey itself becomes the guide, the teacher. You only have to leave your self-willed agenda behind, slough off your doubts and be open to where the path takes you. As the early Taoist saying goes, “If you fall in love with the road, the Way, you will forget the destination.”  The journey itself is never about  accomplishing anything. It is never about gain. And it is never about getting anywhere rather than where you are.
On the path everything is constantly changing and everyone you meet unique and different. This month we have encountered the Parisian children heading off to school in their blue uniforms, the lovers kissing at noon on the park bench, the old man sitting for evening mass in the wooden pew of the medieval church. But for all the difference in age, nationality or language everyone travels the same road. And the one common pull that draws everyone forward is that we all follow the ancient Way whether we realize it or not.
Each day we cannot know what lies ahead. You only have to take courage and welcome the new territory in front of you. It is an exercise in trust. When you make a habit of receptivity, you learn to love the world and your self in it just as it is.
