The traveler and the sage

 A young backpack travelling cyclist once came upon a sanctuary high in the mountains, seeking wisdom from an old sage rumored to have attained enlightenment.


"I have searched everywhere for the true path to self-discovery," the traveler said, exhausted. "I’ve studied YouTube gurus, meditated for hours, and read every sacred text, still feel I’m going nowhere… lost. Tell me, what is the right way?"


The sage smiled and handed the traveler a cup of tea. As the steam curled between them, he asked, "If you were walking through a forest and came upon three paths. One wide and often passed, one narrow and overgrown with bushes, and one that vanished into the mist of the early morning—which would you take?"


The traveler frowned. "The wise would choose the clearest path, wouldn’t they? The one most traveled, where others have found success, prosperity and abundance along the way."


The sage smiled and shook his head. "And yet, the man who takes the hidden path may discover a waterfall unseen for centuries. The one who wanders into the mist may find himself standing at the edge of a cliff, forced to surrender to the unknown. And the one who follows the common road may arrive exactly where he expected only to realize he was never seeking that destination at all."


The traveler fell silent.


"Everyone is different and there is no greater path," the sage continued. "Only the one you walk. Some climb mountains; some deserts, others get lost in valleys. Some need rituals; others must lose all they believe. Awareness does not come from the road you take but from the willingness to keep walking, even when the path dissolves beneath your feet."


The traveler looked down at his tea, now cool. His eyes drifted to a pinwheel, that may have been left by some traveller before him. For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about the right way just only his own. And in that moment, he understood: the journey was never about finding a right trail. It was about learning to walk without one.


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