Being on a path seems to imply some kind of movement. The presumption is that the movement is mine and is in a forward direction, towards an outcome. That outcome is somehow better than where I stand.
I think I am starting to prefer to stand in place, to feel undirected toward some kind of goal. I think I like the feeling of embracing unintended outcomes and I am a little suspicious of things turning out just the way I planned.
If anything moves, it is not me but the path itself. It carries me along, intent though I might be of not falling off the edges. I am thinking less of outcomes and more about yielding to where I am. I like to sometimes just sit on the path.
I sense that I have no place to go, no where else to be. The path will carry me if I do not resist or stray onto its sides. The flow of the path knows how to carry me. I need not move but only look around and be aware of where I am. It is enough to become part of where I am.