Keeping track is not simply a matter of following a prescribed path. It is a matter of knowing where your boundaries are, setting them, and then strengthening them. Know that boundaries are not synonymous with borders. Keeping track is about staying the distance to keep clear the path ahead. It is about creating the freedom for whatever you have on track to push boundaries without losing inherent sense of where the yet-unmapped path goes. If you keep track, you cannot forget where you – or the path – are going.
Keeping ‘track’ of things is at times helpful. At other times it is pointless. Be very careful should you decide to keep track of matters that do not concern you. You are wasting headspace storing facts and figures that are not beneficial to your own future and I, for one, would question the intentions of any person who chooses to keep track of another’s business when said facts and figures are not of any benefit to anyone other than the one whose business it is.
I would suggest finding for yourself a steady track upon which to launch your trajectory. Once you get your sea-legs, as such, the track’s undulations will not much bother you – you will take the rough and the smooth in your stride. When you can trust your legs to go the distance no matter where your trajectory ends up taking you, your sense of direction intensifies. When that happens, keep track.
As a child, when I discovered that Timbuktu was a real place – that it actually existed – I was delighted. For me, that put paid to the fallacy of urban myths and legends. I grew inclined to listen to them all because in part each one tells a truth. There is always comfort in the truth, no matter what the cost. The truth IS what brings inner peace – eventually. Before peace comes the inevitable facing of facts and figures, the empirical equation-solving. If you are an empiricist, yippee for you. I, fortunately, am not one of those. My truths come hard, and fast, and I assimilate them quickly. You can do that when you trust yourself implicitly.
If you should find yourself in a predicament, not knowing which way to head except Timbuktu, it is helpful to remember that Timbuktu is absolutely the arse end of nowhere. It may take the longest time to get there but when you do, you will understand why it takes such a long time to arrive. Timbuktu is home to a great many wayward pilgrims. It is the resting place of the brave. And ‘resting’ in my world is not synonymous with ‘dead’. It means repose. Reflection. Ultimately, contentment.
I think the houses in Timbuktu are probably invisible. Like its people. That is why Timbuktu became an urban legend – because no one ever got there before, or saw it. It decided it would one day become real, like a town on a map.
And that – is actualisation.