As I travel through the myst and mysterious valleys of the middle way, bailing my foot in and out of mud and pot holes, badly twisting my ankle. All the way to my place of rest and wealth. I am reminded that destination is never by feet, but by spiritual fulfillment. I am not pushing my body to climb up this mountain, but flying my heart like a kite, soul browsing until I find a devine meaning of me. I might have been born to be president of the world, or to be an entrepreneur, a killer or a healer. I will fearlesly deepen and penetrate the darkest bushes of my path until I find love, freedom and myself.
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© FAYA BOON