I think I’ve come to realize in my week of travel that what I concluded after reading Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist when I was in 8th grade, is in fact true: It is all right here, this moment and time, right where one finds himself, lost and way laid. The travel and experiences that Santiago had to go through to land up right where he started out from- we all go through the same motions, don’t we? For varied reasons, under numerous pretenses-but it all falls under the same act of self realization.
As I traveled physically through different states, mentally admiring all that was to be enjoyed, my mind traveled another parallel journey with Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. Simply put, I feel ashamed and privileged. When one reads her words, they cease to remain mere words. It makes you wonder, what have you been reading so far? Could one BE more privileged, getting to read line after line? It makes me think with shame, what purpose do we serve today? What do I serve? Though I’ve still got half the book to cover, every line emphasizes the sense that all there is in today’s world is talk and thoughts and zilch action.
There’s one hope though- I now know that I’m scared for the right reason- among all the farce of reasons I hide beneath, this one is true.