Within the realms of the Great Land journeys the wayfarer. A traveler who walks among men and women with purposeful stride and braveness of heart. Always seeking, yet searching for nothing. Walking the path, but following none. Sure of the way, while free to wander.
Others share this land, although they do not reside here. They are born and die within its bounds, yet their memories are not of its places. Its sun shines on them but does not warm them. Its moon lights the night sky but does not evoke wonder. Its mysteries dictate the lives of the people, but they do not ask why.
The wayfarer walks with a happy heart, but does not run from sadness. The wayfarer prospers in the light, but is not ravaged by the darkness. The wayfarer seeks the company of those who are true, but does not condemn those who are not.
The wayfarer is not diminished by weakness, but by weakness becomes strong. The wayfarer is eager to know, but by knowledge, is freed from knowing. The wayfarer is partial to mountain views, but by way of the valley, may reach the next peak.
The wayfarer is resourceful, yet does not refuse help. The wayfarer may give and receive, yet prefers to share. The wayfarer is charmed by magic, yet is not a slave to superstition.
And all those who come to recognize the wayfarer in their midst recognize an individual who lives and loves with passion and vitality. An individual committed to the truth and to living honestly. An individual who finds purpose in all things. For indeed nothing in the Great Land is without meaning.
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