“Often, beyond the next turning, footfalls of a herd galloping across s...” — Julien Gracq Quote

Often, beyond the next turning, footfalls of a herd galloping across stone were heard, or further in the distance, with reassuring grunts, a wild boar could be seen, trotting with steady stride along the edge of the road with her sow and a whole procession of young in tow. And then one's heart beat faster upon advancing a little into the subtle light: one might have said that the path had suddenly become wild, thick with grass, its dark paving-slabs engulfed by nettles, blackthorn and sloe, so that it mingled up time past rather than crossing country-side, and perhaps it was going to issue forth, in the chiaroscuro of thicket smelling of moistened down and fresh grass, into one of those glades where animals spoke to men.

Blood had long since ceased to beat from one end to the other, but one could sense, from passages marked with fresher traces of wheels and hooves, that once the meaning and even the very idea of a long journey was lost, sleep had not descended over it in one fell swoop: it had continued to steal a march here and there, in a discontinuous way, and over short distances, like a laborer who feels his cart jolt on a section of Roman road that crosses his field...

It was a fossilized path: the will which had cut this gash out of these solitary places so that the blood and sap would flow there was long since dead - and dead too were the circumstances which had guided this will. A whitish and indurated scar remained, gradually gnawed away by the earth like a flesh that heals itself, yet its direction was still vaguely cut into the horizon; a language and crepuscular sign rather than a way forward - a worn-out lifeline which still vegetated through the fallow land as it does on the palm of a hand. It was so old that, since it had been constructed, the very configuration of the land must have changed imperceptibly.

Only the possibility of a journey creates space because space, before and after, becomes (is) the same; only the Way on a journey creates time, and the idea of the goal gives birth to time. Time does not measure time but the length of a passed road. The journey is space since nothing journeys (travels) from one to another or apart from one another. Nothing is ever separated; rather, all travel with all; all looks for itself within and in the other, and every path is the idea of the Being that finds itself on its journey because it is the Way.

Most dreams require the willingness to evolve, and they take a lot of time to manifest. Keep on striving for the best.

After the voyage, every form comes to the same place despite being dispersed in myriad directions in conditional “separation” and dissolution. When forms completely dissolve, the emptiness separating forms or shapes becomes a primordial desert of nothingness without the shapes. This nothingness is the same everywhere; every “place or point” becomes the same “place,” a pointless point; the distance disappears. Since there is no time without space, the same applies to time. Real space is nothingness or an absolute vacuum; it is non-dimensional.