Chapter 1: Transformative Literature

Finding the right book at a crucial moment can significantly alter your life. I genuinely believe in this notion, and my experiences reinforce it. Many times, I've encountered the perfect book precisely when I needed it most—or perhaps these books sought me out.

As a child, "The Odyssey" enchanted me, introducing me to the endless possibilities of storytelling. In middle school, "The Grapes of Wrath" rekindled my appreciation for literature when I had nearly forgotten its magic. During my teenage years, I stumbled upon Lao Tzu's "Tao Te Ching" while wandering nature trails, lost in thoughts of peace and exploration. In college, Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" captivated me, even as I continued to indulge in youthful excess. Paul Kalanithi's "When Breath Becomes Air" arrived shortly after my father’s brain cancer diagnosis, followed by Pema Chödrön’s "When Things Fall Apart" after his passing.

I often reflect on the serendipity involved in these encounters—how I discovered each book at a pivotal time when I was ready to absorb their wisdom. Each text has intricately shaped my worldview and contributed to the person I have become, one page at a time.

Yet, one book stands out above all others for its profound impact on my life: Marcus Aurelius's "Meditations."

In August 2020, I embarked on a solo cycling journey along the Colorado Trail, a nearly 500-mile stretch through the Rocky Mountains, connecting Denver to Durango. This expedition took me through a variety of terrains—rivers, forests, and alpine tundras. The breathtaking views often left me too exhausted to appreciate their beauty.

For sixteen days, I pedaled alone, feeling akin to Sisyphus, endlessly climbing from one peak to another. I often recalled Camus’s words: "One must imagine Sisyphus happy." Yet, more often, I found myself contemplating the insights of Marcus Aurelius.

Along with my guidebook and a local flora field guide, "Meditations" was the sole literary companion I took with me. Although I had read it multiple times prior, it was during this journey that the teachings of Marcus Aurelius truly resonated with me.

With ample time to reflect in the wilderness, I absorbed his wisdom: “You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” This concept, central to Stoicism, was no longer just an abstract idea; it became a practical lesson to apply.

During arduous climbs two miles above sea level, calorie-depleted and sun-baked, I faced a choice: accept my struggles or allow them to overwhelm me. Seneca, another Stoic philosopher, posed a poignant question: "How does it help to make troubles heavier by bemoaning them?"

Regardless of the difficulties I encountered on the Trail, I learned that my true power lay in my thoughts. I couldn't control physical laws or the weariness of my body, but I could choose empowering thoughts that uplifted me and those around me.

This mindset, largely cultivated by reading "Meditations," has remained with me long after my journey. The solitude of Colorado's wilderness provided the perfect backdrop for internalizing Marcus Aurelius’s teachings, while the challenges of the trail allowed me to actively practice them.

As I neared Durango, these principles became ingrained within me. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “The things you think about determine the quality of your mind.” I pondered his wisdom while resting beneath a Douglas fir, reflecting on my father's passing three years prior.

In the quiet of the Trail, memories of my father's final days surfaced. I recalled the complexities of our relationship and the profound simplicity that emerged as he neared the end of his life. In his final moments, my father radiated unconditional love, a legacy I strive to emulate in my own actions.

"Look inward," Marcus Aurelius advised. "Don't let the true nature of anything elude you." I was reminded of the fleeting nature of existence as I stood on a ridgeline, watching smoke from distant wildfires obscure the sky.

This reflection led me to contemplate my father’s ashes—reduced to elemental matter, a poignant reminder of life’s transience. I began to view death, not as a cruel fate, but as an intrinsic part of nature—a transformation akin to birth.

Themes of life and death preoccupied my thoughts on the Trail, echoing the lessons from "Meditations." Upon reaching the southern terminus, I leaned against a cottonwood tree, expecting to feel joy and accomplishment. Instead, I felt a sense of numbness, reminiscent of my feelings following my father's death.

I realized that the meaning I sought wasn’t to be found externally but rather in the moments I shared with my father. My journey on the Colorado Trail didn’t reveal the "Meaning of Life," but it taught me that every moment holds the potential for significance.

"Not to live as if you had endless years ahead of you," Marcus Aurelius cautioned. "Death overshadows you. While you're alive and able—be good." This sentiment resonated deeply with me on the Trail and reflects the lessons learned from my father's final days.

Just as every mile on the Colorado Trail unveils new landscapes, life, too, is a continuous journey of change. The essence of our existence lies in the moments we inhabit between birth and death.

Chapter 2: The Journey Continues

In this video, titled "How I met Freddie Mercury - Right Place, Right Time," the speaker shares their personal anecdotes and insights into the serendipitous moments that define our lives, mirroring themes of timing in literature.

This video, "How to Pick Just Right Books - Five Finger Rule & I PICK Strategies," offers practical strategies for selecting meaningful literature, emphasizing the importance of finding the right book at the right time in your life.