As he looks out on the horizon, to the place where destiny calls him, away from his friends, the wizard resigns himself to his fate: “Betimes, our paths are laid before us by powers greater than our own. In those moments, it’s our task to make our feet go where our hearts wish not to tread.”
“Sounds a bit like an adventure,” his most loyal companion remarks.
“Oh, alone it’s just a journey,” the wizard says. “Now adventures — they must be shared.”
It’s an invitation for his friend to join him, and though reluctantly and against her better judgement, eventually, she will.
As one of his last acts as a bachelor, Barney Stinson imbibes a piece of wisdom upon two newfound fans of his: “Whatever you do in this life, it’s not legendary unless your friends are there to see it.”
Journeys can be wonderful and transformative. They are an important tool in finding not just ourselves but also our place in this universe. Adventures, however, are where the joy is wed to our journeys. Where our sorrows are halved for being shared, and our cheers multiplied for being divided.
Without them, whatever places we find to accommodate who we are — be it locations, feelings, or people — won’t serve much of their purpose at all. It is only in sharing ourselves that we truly become ourselves, only in our adventures that we can advance a cause larger than ourselves.
Going on an adventure can be scary. There’s no telling what might happen. Thankfully, you won’t have to do it alone. Chances are, wherever the road will lead you, when you look back upon it later, you’ll tell us of the legendary stories that transpired — if only because your friends were there to see them.
The next time a wizard knocks on your door, don’t try to shoo him on his way. Listen to his petition. Consider taking his hand. He may lead you far beyond the borders of your comfortable village, but what’s life if not a chance to follow your nose?