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

Traveler, your footprints
are the only road, nothing else.
Traveler, there is no road;
you make your own path as you walk.
As you walk, you make your own road,
and when you look back
you see the path
you will never travel again.
Traveler, there is no road;
only a ship’s wake on the sea.