I realized the other day that I have been working toward a goal, and it has been my problem all along. I have been working toward a goal, and that goal is a stopping point. It is as simple as that; I have been working and working, often giving up, often becoming disheartened, because my end goal is to stop. The ideal end to my journey full of work is to come to a halt. I realized this the other day and it changed me.
I realized that when the goal of my journey is to stop, it becomes pointless. The journey no longer reaches a rightful fruition because the point of a journey, my journey at least, should not lie in the fruition, but in the journey which does not end but continues. The fruition comes at each moment when I look back and realize I am not the same as I was a second ago, then turn forward and continue.
I realized the other day that, lately, I have had a tough time learning. I have tried every form of scapegoating and mortification to find the root of my problem, but the root has not been the problem. The problem has not been any of the times I have tried to learn and failed, not the poorly equipped teachers I have encountered in the past who have shown me a way that did not stick, not my inability to put forth the effort necessary. The problem has been in my expectation for the end, an end which should not come at all.
Part of humanity, and the uniqueness of the human, is the forming of goals. We use these goals to strive onward but in their forming we risk stopping. When we form a goal, we risk the creation of a pointless journey, and we risk ceasing to strive. When we learn in a line segment rather than an endless line, we risk creating a pointless catalog of knowledge, and we risk ceasing to exist.