A clump of preschool children were cluttering the sidewalk today on my walk to teach. There was a group of three or four of them hunkered down in squats picking at leaves with little sticks. There was one going back and forth through the standing legs of a supervising grown up. Several others were drifting near a large tree trunk. Two were poking their fingers through an ornate iron fence. What were they doing there? The three women in charge of them were standing in relaxed postures and chatting. Is this mid-block stretch of sidewalk the destination of the group? Weren't they on their way somewhere? The most marvelous thing was, the kids were quite clearly present right there right then. A pause in the group's travel became the place they had traveled to be.
I was walking along. At each moment I was right there, too, on the sidewalk, moving in the world, just like the children. My gaze moving, feeling the movement of my hip joints and my shoulders, exploring the textures of the sidewalk under my sandals. Breathing in and breathing out.
Perhaps the destination is always simply being fully where we are right now.