Here’s another little zine I made from a map page, featuring a poem by Antonio Machado.

Caminante no hay Camino

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.

Traveler, your footprints
are the only road, nothing else.
Traveler, there is no road;
you make your own path as you walk.
As you walk, you make your own road,
and when you look back
you see the path
you will never travel again.
Traveler, there is no road;
only a ship’s wake on the sea.

I first heard this poem in Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly, and have been reminded of it at times where I’m looking for a map for the path ahead. Maybe thanks to Frozen II (whose songs are permanently embedded into my mind, continually reinforced by our three little princesses), but stepping into the unknown, and doing “the next right thing” has been a theme of late. Maybe because the norms of our whole society have been shaken as well.

There is no road, keep moving one step at a time.