A wise man once said, “It is not the destination, but the journey.” How we arrive is much more important than when we arrive, or where.
I am strongly of the opinion that he was talking complete bollocks. As far as I am concerned, the whole point of going somewhere is to be there, not spending hours in airports/jumping hoops/putting up with idiots as if that makes our arrival somehow more rewarding. It just makes it a relief. The sooner someone manages matter transfer I will be stepping on to the transporter pad with the word “Energise” on my lips.
If anything, my analogous journey through life has so far been a meandering road-trip where I keep turning off the highway a few junctions early and end up stuck in a traffic jam trying to get back on to a road that might actually go in the vague direction I’m trying to get to. At some point I tore the map up in a fit of pique after realising I hadn’t even been on the road I wanted to be on in the first place; I think I’m on the right road now, but I’m definitely not in the fast lane and people keep overtaking me in better looking cars.
There’s a healthy sense of self-worth behind all this saying that I’m better than all this. I’m better than these people driving past me. I intend to prove it to them, after all, the only person who can make this journey better for me, is me.