My paternal family lives in one of the highest towns of the island so, when I was child we would visit several times during the year.
I had this thing where I believed that whenever the road went up – because of a mountain – it would leave the ground (cartoon-like) and raise independently and I would be able to see the ground below if I could just look out far enough from the window. So, every time I felt the car climbing a mountain I would stick my face unto the window hoping this time I would be able to see the ground below the road.
I was always so disappointed when I could see the ground beside the road.
The other day I was driving and I was reflecting on everything that has happened the past weeks, all the ways my life has changed, how I’ve changed; and I felt this longing to know where the road was taking me, or at least which road I was on.
And I had this moment where I thought, you know what? It doesn’t matter because, while we always have that feeling that we pick a road and we travel through it, the truth is: the road follows you. We put our feet out and the road is made beneath them. We are building the road we journey on while we live.
There’s a song in spanish that says “caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar” which translates to “walker there is no road, the road is made when you walk”.
I finally understood what it means.
We get so anxious to always know where the path it’s leading and it’s us leading the path all the while.
come on road, I’ll make you mountains
do not fear road, I’ll swerve you right
follow me road, follow me
because I don’t know where I’m going
and not knowing makes me lead you right
What have you done to regain your way when you’ve felt lost?