Traveler, There Is No Road

I had the great privilege yesterday of being at a David Whyte reading in Seattle - Solace: The Art of Asking the Beautiful Question.

I chose not to take notes, but to sit and listen. To close my eyes and turn my head a little to the right so that my left ear was receiving his words, that the words and his intonations and imagery were going into the right side of my brain. Not the logical left, but the magical, mystical and creative right side of my brain.

There was so much in that morning presentation: feeling like I was being 'held' in a beautiful container for contemplation, consideration, examination. The poem above, one of my favorites, was part of the talk. 

I love this poem for the times in my life when I have wanted desperately to have a path to follow. And to realize, at some point and usually rather painfully, that there was no path. I was treading forward with no path, no plan, no destination. That my footprints were the road, were the path. Never to be duplicated.

Coming into another year: 2020. I wonder where my feet will take me? How will I be a traveler this coming year? When and where do I need to spend time in contemplation, consideration and examination?