Entry 0005::A Shared Path of Burden and Joy

my pain is self-chosen, at least so I am told

- Stanley Lane

The worn trail cuts a familiar swathe through the clearing, each step etched by countless travelers. It promises a familiar destination, a well-trodden journey. But a strange resistance stirs, a pull towards the untamed beauty beyond. The wilderness beckons, a tangled symphony of rustling leaves whispering promises of possibility. It’s a path is unmarked and wild. Maybe it’s the way the sunlight dances through the leaves, painting a shifting mosaic on the forest floor. Perhaps it’s the call of unseen birds, a melody different from the one that graces the worn path. Whatever it is, it draws me in, a siren song.

My first steps are tentative, the ground rough and unfamiliar beneath my feet. Thorns snag at my clothes. Yet, with each step, doubt loosens its grip. The air here feels different, alive with a crisp energy that sets my senses on edge. The silence, once unsettling, transforms into a canvas for the orchestra of nature.

There are moments of frustration, tangled undergrowth and hidden obstacles that test my resolve. But each hurdle overcome brings a surge of exhilaration. I’m carving my own path, a testament to my own desires, not following someone else’s map.

The path doesn’t lead to a grand vista or a hidden treasure chest. Instead, it leads me deeper within myself, to a newfound confidence and a sense of belonging. It demands my full presence, rewarding curiosity and perseverance in equal measure.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor, I emerge forever changed. The worn trail is still there, a familiar comfort. I walk along it for awhile, basking in its ease and calm. There is a reason for so many to travel here. It is known. There aren’t so many obstacles. There aren’t as many ups and downs. No hidden borrows or beasts. I am afforded a renewed focus closer to the horizon to where I can almost see where the trail concludes. But it is getting dark and I can’t travel the untrodden in the dark. I have tried. Maybe I can one day again but for now I can rest here on the traveled path.

As I wake from my rest on the familiar path, I know that even the most well-worn journeys hold their own burdens and joys. Boredom becomes bothersome. I fidget. My body is rested. My mind wonders. I feel myself losing motivation to get to the end I so clearly see near the horizon. The forest calls.