There is No Short-Cut on the Way Back Home

Switching back and forth up the ever rising Himalayan foot hills, Jebadiah attentively stepped aside, off the narrow path. Two donkeys sporadically hustled down the way to obey the yelps of the man following them with a thin stick and a thin grin.  Up this high, where you would think there was nothing, a scattered village looks down into the valley which, from here, looks like there is nothing.  Rice paddies appear to be emerald steps for the gods terracing up the hillside. Women thrust bright garments against stream-stones as if they are straining to leave color on the rocks. And finally Jebadiah passes the last speckle of the scattered village and heads out of the grazed-to-grey cow pasture and into the pines. 

He walked a barley visible trail without any need to attend to anything but his movements. In only a few moments he was alone with himself. Without any need to go further he headed towards a near by opening in the dense trees revealing a great light. He headed over to a cliff-ledge. At the moment he arrived two pheasants squawked and took flight straight off the edge. One was brown with white and pale-blue markings, and the other had deep-shimmering blue feathers, a patriotic-red head, and a long tail like a trail of ornaments.  Jebadiah stood and looked out into the final dip in the landscape before the earth began its climb into the monumental Himalayan peaks. He slowly raised his line of sight up past the last spots of vegetation towards the enormous rock-faced walls and tried to imagine the evolutionary journey the planet had to take to reach these results. Focused in contemplation Jeb didn't notice his eyes continue the climb. Without warning he was startled by the blazing snow-capped tips he was staring directly into. The sun gleamed an outstanding reflection and left him blind of sight and stunned of thought. From neither his sight, nor hearing, nor mind, formations began to emerge from a space unknown to him. 

He observed himself on a noble journey. He walked through the dazzling streets of marble cities. He felt the life-draining drudge across seas of desert, and he passed through the violent interruption of waves across the open ocean.  The salt water spoke. "The longer you give to bare my wake the sooner you will return home." 

He witnessed himself leaving each thing he carried with him along the journey. Piece by piece he was completely-lightened. Yet he saw in the end unveiling bundles of fine silk, parcels of rare spices and precious stones for all before him.
   
Again he became alone and there laying behind him were all the market places of all the world. The languages from everywhere melted together and carried to him, "pockets turned inside-out there is nowhere left to turn." With clarity beyond the capabilities of vision, he saw himself turning straight down the only road there is to take alone.  His feet appeared on a forest path, much like the one his body stood on now, and he experienced the awe a child feels while looking up at a balloon vanishing into the sky. 

Jebadiah's eyes finally adjusted to the glare, and the images of the magnificent mountaintops took him away from that auspicious space that silently spoke to him. Made timid by the overwhelming power he had just experienced, Jeb decided to go back. He had to will himself to take a first step.  One foot lifted and then fell forward. From the pine-needles beneath the step came a sound... 

"There is no short-cut on the way back home."