“One day, I will find the right words,” Jack Kerouac once shared, “and they will be simple.”

He was speaking to his journeys upon the ‘open road’; traveling for the first time through the mostly untouched hills of the American Southwest.

It was here that he found his resting place; a space in which even the most solitary of breaths carried the amplitude of thousand suns. Where the desert flowers dared to bloom in spite of expert contemplations. And, the lone wolf called long into night – begging his God for just one more day.

In the vast expanse of a glowing empty night he learned that a spirit humbled is a spirit served.

And…

That what matters most is not who we once were, but rather more so who we might become.

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.”

Indeed, this road is life – and our legacy, the journey left behind.

In peace…

Namaste ❤