The Road

Notes from the field on poetry and personal truth

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.

Antonio Machado

I was introduced to this poem this week and it surprised me with it’s potency. I even took the time to learn it in Spanish, as I felt like it preferred to be spoken in its native language.

It speaks of the path we each walk, and of the present moment, and I liked it because it allows for the individual to make their own choice - it places destiny with the self.

Often times doing this work, I run into people’s strongly held beliefs and in those moments I have a choice of how to respond. I now ask myself - how do I give what I have, but remain myself? How do I comfort but not conform?

Here is what I know. I have my own beliefs that I rely upon daily, and I trust that I am on the path I am meant to walk. I am also aware that there are others on their own path, and I honor those individual journeys. I have the ability to acknowledge several truths at once, and I am grateful to be in a place to serve - even people who do not believe as I do.

When my path does happen to cross another in these very vulnerable moments, I know it is my job to give what I have to offer - a dang good eulogy and to harness what I call àṣẹ to bring comfort and hope.

People feel it. I see it in their face, or I feel it in their departing handshake. And when I do, I am reaffirmed that I am where I am meant to be, doing what I am meant to do.

I am taking this opportunity, kind Travelers, to say - I have hope and I am fulfilled. My beliefs and my work sustain me, and help me to make a difference in the lives of others. I am at peace and I know this road will take me exactly where I need to go.

May your road do the same.

Àṣẹ