Before there was a path, there were shrubs. Stinging nettles and thorns to scratch at the ankles, snakes and scorpions hiding under foliage. Solid ground turned to soft, branches protruding from the earth to catch you off guard.
Before there was a path, there was danger. We walked barefoot and cursed the unknown. We traveled and wandered and learned. As feet traversed the same roads over and over, vines were cut away and a trail began to form.
We walk the path without a thought of the tribulations of our forefathers. To us, the path has always been there, easing our travels through life. Those who paved a way for us are long forgotten – their sacrifices, taken for granted as we get lost in the mundane of daily existence. Their contributions are lost to time.
And yet, to understand where the path leads, we must first understand where we came from. We cannot get lost in trees; we must commit to a trajectory first. We must see the forest if we are to navigate it, lest we stray from the path and get lost among the flora.
Tribulations and suffering will face us. We must persevere, for generations to come will rely on the roads we pave today.