Journey to the purpose is the most important
During the holidays, I make sure again that not the purpose of journey, but journey to the purpose is the most important. On the way to the top, another Albanian surprisingly asks: "You walk on feet that castle?".
"So where is actually a castle on a top?". Finally doubts gone, and I know that I have chosen the right turn. I realized that the second question about walking on feet I ignored. For now, it is not important. Yes. Do not the journey to the purpose keeps in mind better than the achievement to the goal, or goal achievement remembers better when you need to put effort on the road towards. If I traveled by car I would have not met neither people, nor saw fertile plains, with sharp rises to the mountains, nor found the car dump, "hanging" on the roof, nor met a shepherd, nor finally felt a sweet self-satisfaction.
A bit further, but not too far away from the castle walls there are fresh and older rubbish. I do not want to go into the details. Close your eyes and imagine the most disgusting waste. Did it? And what about dry residues of dog tangled in wires?
From the residues of Second World War and even older times and waste of these days, I'm running to the horizon. Blue sky and water merge into a single whole. Although it is still about 9 in the morning, horizon vibrates from heat. Sky also waves and further merges with the sea. Silence. Sound of ringing bells approaches. It is easy to guess that there could jump goats. I can see more and more of them. Black, white, long hair, neat, very noble-looking goats. After a few moments, HE appears. His grey head turns to the sea. Although he goes on these paths and roads not for the first time and probably he grew up by the sea, a few minutes he freezes his face to the sea.
Perhaps he is looking for signs of today and the coming weather. Deciding how much and where he will be able to protect his goats. He hasn’t the god of the same name. His days depend on wind, rain, sun, mountain slopes and goats. In the distance I can hear the call for prayer. He slowly turns and continues his journey to the mountain tops. Suddenly I realize that he has nothing – neither food nor water. Holding the bottle in my hands I feel ashamed. Maybe I am overweening? Although the sun has risen only recently, I feel like it heats the head. Inside I calm myself that such a man as he is, probably finds other ways to obtain water and food from nature. Although only dry plants are around. Or maybe he takes the energy directly from the sun or a wind driven sea freshness. As a true yogi, draws energy from the universe, but he does not need any guru. Nature, his goats are his teachers. And finally, he for himself.
He moves so slowly that it appears as he is saving energy. My and his roads cross. It seems like he doesn’t see me. Not “seems“. Just doesn’t see. Probably the things that has no relation to his world, he absolutely doesn’t care. If he pays attention to me, he will lose a focus to his goats, will lose a part of his energy, which may be necessary to noon heat or a further glimpse into the sea. He wears a white shirt, a little whiter than his grey hair. One trousers leg probably cut by mountain scrubs. I'm trying to capture as goats gracefully eat green bush leaves. I still can’t perceive their sense of balance. And it finally draws attention to probably bothersome outsider. Probably he sees as I'm watching his goats. Here our worlds cross. Perhaps using more energy than he had planned, he whistles and shouts something. Goats move towards him. I feel remorse and commit myself to come to offer some water. However, within a few moments he had already disappeared. And I can’t hear the calls. Goats obediently slowly, as their shepherd, move forward.
I go down from the mountain. Once again, the idea is back, "how someone so many years has managed to build a castle so high?". Looking back to validate my idea that drive-up construction materials and daily food supply to the castle residents had to be "amazing journey toward the goal." In search of the castle, at the right side I see a shining white shirt - a white dot. Right before the sun on the rock shepherd recovers his forces.
