It was a discovery that there was so much to discover. That there were worlds to see and seas to part. There would be places that, even though my feet pounded the well packed trail, I felt like I had discovered a whole new world. I had pioneered my new world. It wouldn’t be called home—because what is home?—but it would be a place I would take with me. A souvenir. A badge. That discovery.
I left it all behind. Took what little I had and gave it all away so I had everything to gain. I started with nothing but a name; what identified me but I couldn’t identify with.
A cavalier adventure abandoned all comforts and created a desire to desire what’s beyond the edge of the earth. To press on and forge ahead through storms and stains, sins and gains. I will let the letters of the road signs passed impress and imprint a name for me. A name that doesn’t just follow in the dust of my trail but proceeds me. I want to make a name that’s fashioned with the strength of that craving and the passion of wanderlust. It will be a name that belongs with me and a name that will stand on its own when I stake my claim. I want a name that will rouse those that hear it but not because of the miles traveled but because of how those miles molded me.
But to arrive, many silent miles are traveled. A name is built during those silent miles along the weaving and waning of the map’s lines. It’s shaped on the lips of the world, your Muse, but is only whispered until you truly know it—until you can shout it out.
To discover my name is more than to make that name.