The Way Of Life

“Pilgrims there is no path, the path is made by walking” … wise words to describe in a masterly way what life is. There is no way, it is true, each one of us configures his path, his path, his personal history, full of successes and mistakes, of happy moments and bitter drinks.

But that’s life; one only learns to live it precisely by living, living without fear, walking without stopping despite the stones that we find on the way and that sometimes make us stumble and fall, stumble and fall and then get up again, with more will and strength, without looking back; because the past is no longer there and the future is about to arrive, because we can only dimly see a distant horizon that has not yet arrived.

But in the meantime, we are taking steps at a hurried and steady pace, and at other times like a small snail that hides its head in its tiny house… but we remake and move on, walking because… “Pilgrim, there is no way, the path is made by walking”.

Because sometimes we’ll have to decide between crossing the river or taking another shortcut, we’ll enjoy it when the sun comes out in all its splendor and we’ll have to endure it when a storm hits our heads; and so we go, collecting pebbles along the way and small but precious flowers, or a few drops of rainwater that we will keep as a reminder in our memory of everything that this storm taught us; this storm that taught us to cover our backs at that frightening moment because it could cause a tremendous cold that would prevent us from continuing to walk quickly, or because it could stain your clothes or your hair and not be as tidy as you should in front of any companion you could find. on the way…

And so we will be filling the backpack, a backpack that will weigh a little more and we will also have our face and skin more tanned by the sun, wind and rain, but we will be a little wiser, wiser on the path of life because… Pilgrim there is no path, the path is made by walking.

Willpower, courage, the fact that we keep walking, humility and pride when we manage to climb the mountain will help us on our long path… this long path that is life and for which there are no precise answers, because only if learn by walking and because mistakes are also right ; because the vulnerability, fear and uncertainty when night comes and we are alone on this path where everything seems strange and mysterious shadows that confuse us and cloud our sight also have its charm…

Because…
Everything passes and everything stays,
but it’s up to us to pass, to
pass, creating paths,
paths over the sea.
I never pursued glory,
nor left
my song in men’s memory ;
i love the subtle worlds,
imponderables and gentle,
like soap bubbles.
I like to see them painted
in sun and crimson, fly
under the blue sky, suddenly shiver
and break…

I never chased glory.

Pilgrim, your footprints are
the way and nothing else;
pilgrim, there is no path,
the path is made by walking.
When walking, the path is created
and when looking back one
sees the path that will never
be walked again.
Pilgrim there is no path
only ripples in the sea…
Some time ago in this place
where today the woods are dressed with thorns
, a poet’s voice was heard shouting
“Pilgrims there is no path,
the path is made when walking…”

Blow by blow, verse by verse…

The poet died far from his home.
The dust of a neighboring country covers it.
As he walked away they saw him cry.
“Pilgrim, there is no path,
the path is made when walking…”

Blow by blow, verse by verse…

When the goldfinch cannot sing.
When the poet is a pilgrim,
when it is useless for us to pray.
“Pilgrim, there is no path,
the path is made when walking…”

Blow by blow, verse by verse.     

– Antonio Machado –