Yesterday when I was out walking, I saw what looked like a small path through the trees. I lifted one bough out of the way, and stepped onto a small track, just enough room for one foot in front of the other. I wasn’t sure if this was a track that had been made by human animals, or non-human animals.
The path continued through the trees, and up through bracken and bramble. It shot up the side of hill, and as I was climbing I couldn’t imagine it would be easy to follow this path downhill, if I had to turn around.
And yet the path kept appearing.
The Buddha described becoming enlightened like uncovering a disused path to a hidden city. For us to put a foot down there must always have been something or someone that came before us. How dependent we are.
This small track crossed another wider path. I looked back the way I had come. The view was breathtaking.