Nothing is so unmasking as a journey, the leaving-here to the going-somewhere. There, both my past and future—whether it’s dusted with nostalgia or gritty with ache—are faraway dreams, reduced to elusive images. There, all I am is brutally and beautifully human. There, all I see are unmasked humans, stripped of four-word titles and simplified to our deeper wants for love and meaning, along with our deepest want to find those two in the same place.
A journey exposes the Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tinman, and the Lion in all of us. On a journey we are Dorothy, longing for a home that is both something like we’ve experienced and yet something we’ve never had the eyes to experience. On a journey, we are the Scarecrow, alight with insecurity that we’re too dumb to do life right. On a journey, we are Tinman, afraid that we’ll never have enough love to give away. On a journey, we are the Lion, fixated on whether we have what it takes to arise and be brave.
And on a journey, some find that these things—wisdom, love, and courage— were sewn inside us all along, if we had eyes to see a kingdom where there is enough, a world where requests for daily bread are still answered, somehow and someway.