I have a brother in the Northeast. He often uses weekends to hike around by himself. The homework done in advance also checks the rural path; Bring a kettle, a camera, and a small amount of money. Walk back and forth for sixty or seventy miles a day, take photos all the way, chat with the villagers, eat some lunch everywhere, and go home in the dark. Sleep well after fatigue. Every time he set out, he tried not to repeat himself. With a different look, to find the familiar scenery in the other. A man who wants to make his own decisions is comfortable and comfortable. Over time, he was almost addicted to walking alone.
I also heard an old schoolmate say he was on foot alone. He occasionally backpacks with his donkey friend, but he himself seems to be particularly fond of one's walking. Around an artificial lake, or a low mountain.
And the countless strange rovers ...
They are all my envy.
A person obeys the call of his own heart, banishes himself between heaven and earth, makes his own audience, and allows the heart to communicate with the sky and the earth. It is probably the most comfortable and most tragic thing in the world.
I 've always admired that state. I hope that I have the courage to walk in the attitude of falling, do not care about strange eyes and speculation, look at the flowers and flowers, listen to the wind and birds ...
What I admire most is that a person can carry a tent, go to the desert, or wild mountains to walk and live. Yes, alone. A person can experience the desolation of "reading the long distance of heaven and earth, and alone, but under the nose."
But with my cowardly character, I dare not do such a feat. Even when I was hiking around like my brother, I was worried. So, that did not dare to realize everything, became my longing for a painful dream.
Do not dare to go alone, then retreat and seek second place, let the figure go with others to those unfamiliar places. Let the mind open a small trip to enjoy alone, through the tunnel of time to experience the vicissitudes of history, breathe the air, the soul to dry in the blue sky and white clouds. The problem is that after three or five days, they have to come back. They have to turn the scenery elsewhere in the memory into a place where they dream.
So, I love traveling.
People say that travel is leaving. It is what it means to be constantly away from the place you know and hate. But every time I travel, I have to come back. The mainstream of life is that you have to fall into a mediocre environment, and the time when you are busy even looking up and looking at the sky is banned. So how tempting it was to leave so occasionally.
There is a religious sermon that life is a journey. -- From place to place, and finally back to place to place. That place is supposed to be a place of eternal silence. So the student was temporarily sent.
So, this temporary life, it should be how new and lively and fragrant .... but why can't I see my life as a trip to the "first meet" so amazing? Those birds say flowers, those wind and rain, thunder and lightning, those live and die; The freshness of those newborn babies, the innocence of those children, the stability of those adults, the security of those old people; Those pain and suffering, those frustrated and frustrated, those lonely, those who fight with each other, those life and death ... this is not the colorful scenery of the journey of life!
But in the face of daily life, why are we always dull, numb, tired .... like my Northeast brother, to be able to keep the familiar around such fresh curiosity, how precious.
Yeah, life is a trip, a solo trip. All your experiences are unique; Even if you have a traveling companion, you will eventually leave one by one and eventually become you and yourself.
As a journey, why not use a sentimental heart to take this short journey of life and make it an imaginary journey.
Like a real trip.
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From @tomge