A Journey Is Joy With Extra Letters

“Enjoy the journey,” they say. As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t on a journey at all. Just a teenager, stuck in a 1,000-person village, bored out of his mind.

“You think boredom is your ally? You merely adopted boredom. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see endless possibility until I was already a man. By then it was nothing to me but blinding!” There is a little more truth in the second half of this bastardized Bane speech than I care to admit – and a little less in the first half than you might fear.

In reality, I went on journeys all the time – they just mostly happened in my head. I read. I watched movies. I played video games. I went outside. Tried all kinds of sports, and invented some of my own. Boredom taught me patience, resourcefulness, and creativity. That’s a great starter kit of traits for the modern world.

Looking back, my childhood was full of joy, and that’s why it’s easy to enjoy the journey now, no matter which direction it takes.

If you can find joy in the little things, be happy on your deserted island, and turn boredom into a springboard for your imagination, the external journey, the one society urges us so desperately to undertake, becomes a bonus level.

There’ll be nothing you won’t already have, and joy will naturally eclipse any journey you elect to go on. It is, after all, the same word with a few more letters in-between.