Good Things Come To Those Who Wait: Journeying To Distant Lands
I searched for God among the Christians and on the Cross and therein I found Him not. I went into the ancient temples of idolatry; no trace of Him was there. I entered the mountain cave of Hira and then went as far as Qandhar but God I found not. With set purpose I fared to the summit of Mount Caucasus and found there only ‘anqa’s habitation. Then I directed my search to the Kaaba, the resort of old and young; God was not there even.
Turning to philosophy I inquired about him from ibn Sina but found Him not within his range. I fared then to the scene of the Prophet’s experience of a great divine manifestation only a “two bow-lengths’ distance from him” but God was not there even in that exalted court. Finally, I looked into my own heart and there I saw Him; He was nowhere else.
On the road, I’m currently spending a few days in Bruges before hopping in a car and undertaking a road trip through Ypres, Mons, Charleroi, Ottignies, Tongeren and a host of other sleepy cities. Earlier this summer a series have events were launched across the country to mark the start of the “Great War” (World War I) so I figured I would take this unique opportunity to uncover Belgium, from Wallonia to Flanders and everywhere in between.
However, prior to this Belgian-rich segment of my holiday I found myself at the easternmost reaches of Europe, the Caucasus to be exact. Flying into Georgia early one morning, I spent five days marvelling at the country’s landscapes before crossing overland into Armenia and adventuring there.
It was a journey filled with anxiety, uncertainty, discovery, laughter and pleasant surprises. It was the sort of trip where my boundaries were pushed, my senses heightened and I wound up coming out on the other side a touch more aware, deeply inspired and hungering for more. Desirous for everything. Wanting of nothing. Restless for additional time, space and energy to travel deeper and further, get lost in the sort of (far off) places I only know by name.
And with those words I will log so I can enjoy the (surprisingly sunny) Belgian afternoon. Before I go; however, I leave you with the promise that a lengthy post on Georgian and Armenia–or perhaps more than one–will come. It is in the works, gestating and taking shape, in the corners of my mind until it arrives, fully formed, in its own time. The right words strung together. Photos and all.
But until that time: safe travels, sunny skies, food-filled days and wine-soaked nights to all!