Going into the unknown world and confronting it without a penny in our pockets had meant that differences between rich and poor, educated and illiterate, all vanished; and beneath all these divisions, a common humanity emerged. Whether we slept in comfortable beds or on the floor of a barn or under a tree, it was all a gift.
As wanderers we were free of shadows from the past. The experience of a beautiful emptiness within myself, with neither material nor spiritual possessions, unlocked my soul. It was a journey without destination; journey and destination became one, thought and action became one.
I felt myself moving like a river. A river and its flow are not separate things; I and my movement were not separate. The journey was me. It was as much an inner journey as an outward one. It was a journey into detachment. The contradiction between movement and stillness ceased. I was on the move in stillness. I was a wanderer, wandering through life. Living from day to day, from inspiration to inspiration.
In wandering I felt a sense of union with the whole sky, the infinite earth and sea. I felt myself a part of the cosmic existence. It was as if by walking I was making love to the earth itself. Wandering was my path, my true self, my true being. It released my soul-force; it brought me in relation to everything else. I stool like I stand in front of the mirror. People, nature, everything became like a mirror, and I could see myself in them, what I was.
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