Wanderer
Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing back
one sees the path
that must never be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road—
Only wakes upon the sea.
~ ~ ~
Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;
caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
sino estelas en la mar.
-Antonio Machado
Fragment from Proverbios y cantares (XXIX)
There is no map for becoming yourself. No proven path, no guaranteed route, no instructions that will spare you from the uncertainty of each step. Machado reminds us that we create the road by walking it—and once walked, it disappears behind us like wakes upon the sea. This is both the terror and the freedom: you are making it up as you go, and what you're making is your life.
