And oh yes, the traveler, alone in the mountains, his only companion-the faithful donkey, bearing his load on it's bare back, exposed to the freezing atmosphere, chilling man and beast alike to the very bone. And yet he traverses this path! Driven by hope, by far away dreams, instilling grit, resilience, the will to get through perhaps the most hostile landscapes on the face of the earth.
Never for a moment does the hope desert him. Never does failure tweak his mind. Never does he muse, what would happen should that mighty boulder decide to hurtle down towards his insignificant self. For in pursuit of his dream, he finds paradise. Much before the dream.
The journey greater than the destination. Not as smooth as the silk he carries. But he's lost in his admiration for these formidable mountains, lost, in awe of their breathtaking beauty. And soon he loses track of his destination. In the beauty of the journey, the path smoothens out, much like a cloth of silk does with wear.
In the beauty of the journey, he forgot his destination. The journey tamed him, detached him from his wild dreams. For the beauty of nature conquers all. The destination was what he wanted, the journey was what he needed.
Life, is not a destination. It's a journey. Enjoy the journey. For lost in the quest of your path, you might just miss the sights around.
The Silk Road was easily the toughest trading route. Yet men, women, children, rulers, common men, they all walked this path. Not for the dreams that lay across it, but for what it held within. Neither storm, nor snow, nor slide could deter them, those who, while believing in the beauty of their dreams, were gripped by the beauty of their reality.
The Silk Road is a paradox of life, a pun, a corollary.