Somewhere in the distance, you catch the gleam of an ornate chest, a treasure just for you. How wonderful. And, you begin to walk, faster and faster — soon you find yourself running towards it.
There is a path linking the great boon and you. Beautiful greenery surrounds the path, and smiling people try and make conversation. Yet, you care not for any of those trifles. For there, in the distance, the gleam is growing closer.
Thus you continue to scurry towards the treasure, steadily growing more restless. Days become months, and months become years.
When at last you arrive at your destination, you are an old man.
You direct an obsessive look at the ornate chest, with no teeth left in your mouth and a heart that soon will cease to beat.
It is with great dismay that you throw the lid open and see that the chest is empty. A single tear rolls down your cheek as this realization hits, but it is still whilst pressing down a heavy gulp in your throat that you for once stop to look back to the path you were in such a hurry to cross.
Dispersed along the path are the contents of the chest. What you so dearly sought was underneath your own feet all along.
There is still time… Let this not be the story of your life.
I call this story the path of the mindless because it is life when lived mindlessly. Each and every action we take, every moment that passes us by, is a treasure to be grateful for. And to rush towards the end of that road means missing out on what truly matters. Thanks for spending your valuable time reading this piece, and I hope that it inspired you.