Odyssey | noun | od•ys•sey | \ ˈä-də-sē \
1 : a long wandering or voyage usually marked by many changes of fortune
2 : an intellectual or spiritual wandering or quest
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Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Walking to the End of the Earth

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

I've had a string of bad luck lately that have gotten me feeling down.  But interestingly, earthquakes struck the past couple of days, and they have given me some perspective, that I should still be thankful.  Grateful that I'm alive and healthy, and appreciative of what I have.

I've been walking quite a bit lately, for long stretches.  Aimlessly, I just choose random roads and see where they lead.  Some go on annual pilgrimages, and just recently, numerous people took to the streets for "alay lakad" (walk offering) during the Holy Week.  I, on the other hand, go on long trudges for a different kind of spirituality -- where my spirit/soul wanders, seeking peace, meaning, and destiny.  They are hard, and seemingly impossible, to find.

As I walk, I look around, and I see the ocean of depression.  The poor masses ever-struggling, while the rich gorge, waste, and play.  But even the wealthy cannot buy their way out of what's coming to them.

We are so minuscule and the universe unfathomable.  It's hard to understand what it all means...  I can't figure out the purpose of our existence.  Or perhaps, I can't accept that our existence is so insignificant, so short, and almost pointless.  The feelings we have now, the state we are in, the material possessions we have -- in the end, they are all fleeting and inconsequential.  It shall all pass, including ourselves.  Our bodies gradually degrade over our very short time, and we all head towards what appears to be the final destiny of eternal nothingness.

It doesn't make sense to me.  Why give us this life, this consciousness, only to take it away?  And innately, we value being alive, because we instinctively fear death.  It seems we are devised to want to remain alive, yet it is impossible to avoid death.  You could reason that perhaps we were meant to have this motivation in order to produce offspring.  But what is the point of having children who are also destined to die?  Is the instinct within us meant so that we keep procreating (and evolving/adapting) in order to keep our own species alive?  Possibly, but why?  Is it because each species has its purpose and must maintain its part in the balance for the health of the Earth?  I don't know... but then, the Earth will also "die" one day, so what's the point of that?

Maybe I'm going in the wrong direction.  Or maybe I'm looking too far off into the sky, when I am supposed to only be concerned with the ground I step on and accept that this is what life's about and limited to.  After several kilometers of walking under the scorching sun, that was actually making out to be a good perspective.  My mind began to wander less, as I began to focus more on my extreme thirst, sore leg muscles, and my struggle in the heat.  The body's automatic adjustments and the primal instinct to survive was kicking in.

Despite the discomfort, a happy-go-lucky stranger in a green shirt I met along the way delightedly tagged along and took photos of me (without asking money or anything from me in return).  He journeyed with me until we reached Laguna Bay.  It's that kind of will power and zest that keeps passionate spirits like him and me walking, never giving up on life, and continually dreaming that there's more to all of this than meets the eye.

















































































































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