The Horizon

As a child, I was fascinated with the horizon. I clearly remember my first encounter with this mysterious moving edge.

One day after school I found myself walking unconsciously in an unfamiliar direction. Suddenly I realized that I had gone far away into the fields. Looking to the horizon, with those majestic mountains of my birth place calling like a flute, I told myself: I should be home now, dinner will be waiting, my fam-ily is going to worry about me.

But under those blue skies the landscape captivated me entirely. I stood immobilized by awe. The thought formed: I want to go to the horizon, I want to live on the edge of the world, I want to be where the horizon is.

And my legs walked and walked and walked. The only fo-cal point ahead of me was a single tree on the horizon line. One majestic tree. My fascination increased.

As I walked I decided: I'm going to meet this tree, it must be the tree of life itself. I had learned about the tree of life in school and now I was headed straight towards it. I could think no other thoughts. I could see only the tree.

The afternoon sun warmed me and I was not tired of walk-ing. I just wanted to meet the horizon and rest under the tree. With the whole heart of a determined child I wanted to sit un-der that tree.

And then, I was looking up through its outstretched branches.

In the haze of my fatigue I concluded that this must be the edge of the world, surely. I had reached my destination. I sat down under the tree and read. And I understood, or pre-tended to understand, what I read.

Before I knew it the sun was going down and I had to get back home. I stood up and looked beyond the tree, and there, amazingly, was another horizon. I made a few attempts to walk toward it. I turned right, left, and found the horizon on all sides -- calling me, embracing me.

As one sage said, "I wandered in pursuit of my own self. I was the traveler and I am the destination." In all of my travels since then I have walked toward that horizon and that tree.