All of It Was the Path

Nothing was wasted. Nothing was interruption.

Thank you for listening!

Take this reflection into the silence, and I'll see you next time.

Transcript

A man stands beneath a forest of tall trees, railroad dust settling on his jacket like ash. He works. He loves. He loses. And still the next morning, he wakes to the sun and keeps going.

The movie “Train Dreams” isn’t full of plot twists. It doesn’t roar with the typical Hollywood thunder. It’s slow. A beautiful and simple movie, in my opinion. Early 20th century. Timber camps, small towns, cabins by rivers. Days stitched together by labor and quiet. The kind of life that doesn’t make headlines but makes a soul.

You watch him build a life. Joy and hardship pass like seasons. And then, because life insists, you watch him put one foot in front of the other.

Yogi Ramacharaka would nod here, the way a teacher nods when a student finally sees. “Each experience, pleasant or unpleasant, is but a lesson… all tending toward the growth of the soul.” There’s no wasted years. There’s no random pain. Just Lessons. Accumulated like rings in a tree.

The film refuses the old lie that life’s meaning arrives only in the spectacular. It shows you the beauty in the ordinary. Work. Love. Loss. Silence.

You want fireworks. And you get embers. But embers still warm a room. Embers still keep you alive through winter. So you keep living. You keep unfolding. You let your days be ordinary and your soul evolve. Because in the end, when you look back, you will see it. Nothing was wasted. Nothing was interruption. All of it was the path.

All is connected. All has a purpose.