Highway Chapter 3
I don’t remember much about my life before I joined the path. I don’t remember my name, my life, my identity. I just have glimpses, shattered memories. A shard will occasionally come to the surface, and I will regain a small piece of my past. And personally, I don’t want it back. I don’t need anything more than the life I have now. I can see faces of people, but without expression. Only a blank stare is around every corner. I remember the broken glass, the flashing lights. I remember the pain, and the sorrow. It hurt me for a long time. And I can remember the anger. An anger so potent, it was all that I thought about. My soul was consumed in darkness, slowly being eaten alive from the inside out. I remember the sensation of falling, over and over again in what felt like an inescapable cycle. I might not remember all that had happened, but I was not a good person. I didn’t know the truth. I was shunned away from society, or perhaps I left for my own reasons. I remember being on the trail for a long time, only moving to keep myself alive. The journey was only for food, shelter, and water. I didn’t stop to take the time to truly see. And this was my error. Some force had given me the chance to be a part of the world, and I was marginalizing it. It took me much longer than intended for me to finally find my way. But even so, I still found it, and that was all that really mattered.
I remember my awakening vividly, sitting on that grassy hill at night staring up at those stars. The moment was indescribable. It was amazing just how much the experience had changed me. Aside from seeing for the first time how the world is, the entire fabric of my existence had been altered. I had become shock absorbent, worries plagued me no longer, and I had become free. I was never angry anymore. It had been a big change from before, where it was controlling. I was no longer a puppet to my emotions. My patience had increased exponentially. I was, in many senses, a being with complete peace and a feeling of being whole. I didn’t question why I lived, for I could feel my decisions affecting the world around me, and how I played an important role, no matter how small. In truth, I was lucky, for I had become the messenger of this life which gave me rebirth. I had purpose. I walk along the side of my road, and watch the little dust clouds I create each time I step.
I am heading to a town by the name of Silverland. As it comes into view, I have to wonder if I will find another. Although my “job” is to help guide people to the truth, it is rare that I am able to successfully recruit another such as I. some people are content to live with their lives, and reject the idea of change. I like to believe that one day, just like me they will come to realize they need the change. And then there are others, ones who are ready to be shown the way, and yet they are not. I speak to them of course, and try to nudge them in the right direction, but it does not always come to pass. If they do not want to go, I cannot force them. The only way to see the truth is by your own willingness to change and your spiritual being up to the task of such a journey. In the approximate 5 years since my awakening, I had only found one other person to the other side of the awakening. I’ve had to watch many reject the call, and I feel sorrow for their loss. Alas, this is all part of the life I live, and it is worth every second.
As I enter the gates, I can immediately feel the people inside. The busy souls, the people hard at work. Although it is not the connection with another drifter, I can sense the outlines and shapes of their essence. A baby crying, some kids chatting, two women gossiping to each other. A small town, but a flurry of activity. Preparing myself for what would come, I set an easy pace and continued on to the town. Hopefully I could find someone.