on travel (the pigrimage)

the last few days have been the craziest in a while. in fact, certainly in this first year of the phd. and yet, a fulfilling experience. i traveled 24 hours, reached home, and started working. there was a 25-page paper due today that was started 30 hours ago, argument et al. an overwhelming experience, no doubt, and it took all of my energy to type non-stop and keep stress at bay. i realized i had some left over (energy, that is), and so here i am, post submission.

in the flight to hong kong, i read the pilgrimage. this was quite a pleasant read, and there are parts i'd love to share with you as time permits. right now, i have time for one (and you'll see why it resonates, i bet):

"When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the act of rebirth. You confront completely new situations, the day passes more slowly, and on most journeys you don't even understand the language the people speak. So you are like a child just out of the womb. You begin to attach much more importance to the things around you because your survival depends upon them. You begin to be more accessible to others because they may be able to help you in difficult situations. And you accept any small favor from the gods with great delight, as if it were an episode you would remember for the rest of your life.

"At the same time, since all things are new, you see only the beauty in them, and you feel happy to be alive. That's why a religious pilgrimage has always been one of the most objective ways of achieving insight. The word peccadillo, which means a "small sin," comes from pecus, which means "defective foot," a foot that is incapable of walking a road. The way to correct the peccadillo is always to walk forward, adapting oneself to new situations and receiving in return all of the thousands of blessings that life generously offers to those who seek them.

[...]

Everything in our surroundings reflected an uneasy peace, the peace of a world that was still in the process of growing and being created - a world that seemed to know that, in order to grow, it had to continue moving along. Great earthquakes and killer storms might make nature seem cruel, but I could see that these were just the vicissitudes of being on the road. Nature itself journeyed, seeking illumination.

"I am very glad to be here," said Petrus, "because the work I did not finish is not important and the work I will be able to do after I get back will be so much better."