The next day, Nathan took his afternoon walk. He always carried his leather bag slung over his left shoulder, crossing his body. This had been Nathan's signature look for nearly fifteen years by this time. This leather bag didn't have a name. Nathan had always felt it wasn't that kind of relationship. This particular bag had been with Nathan around the world. It had doubled as a pillow on many nights and airport floors. From the Big Buddha of Hong Kong and the Burj Khalifa in Dubai to the Santa Monica Pier, this bag had some stories to tell from its adventures with Nathan.

As Nathan walked down the street, motorcycles and scooters zoomed past him. He thought to himself about that motorcycle he was going to buy. He couldn't quite remember what it was called, only the way he felt while riding it. The brand was unfamiliar to Nathan and probably to most Westerners. The motorcycle, however, was 200cc and looked pretty cool. They had it in three colors when he was looking: blue, green, and red. Nathan thoroughly enjoyed how the bike handled the several types of roads he experienced on the fifteen-minute test ride.

The roads of the island varied drastically from one to the next. A smooth paved road could turn into a bumpy dirt road without warning, and another might wind uphill or downhill, with paved roads becoming less common as he got away from the city. On a motorcycle, he believed, those sounded like fun daily challenges. Nathan decided to remind himself to buy a good helmet. He stopped walking long enough to take his phone from his pocket and make a note about the helmet he wanted. Buy full face helmet with impact rating, may have to shop online, the note read.

Nathan put his phone away and continued walking. He walked by the restaurant where he had dinner the week before. Nathan felt like a classic American meal the day he ate there. So he stopped at this little spot and had a rather delicious cheeseburger. As he walked, he scanned the street and watched people walking in his direction, the opposite direction, or no direction at all. One young woman walked with her child strapped to her chest, right next to another woman walking with three young children by her side. There was the man wearing monk-like robes passing by that random guy in board shorts with no shirt. There were many people moving in between these folks. Each on their own path. This time of day always felt like people had a mission they were in the middle of carrying out. Nathan noticed that the feeling he got from watching these people carry out their missions was quite different from the hustle-and-grind mentality he had once grown accustomed to.

This version of purpose included a sense of connection that had seemed lacking in Nathan’s old hustle-and-grind mentality. The missions he observed on the street appeared to be driven by that connection. Rather than distracting from purpose, lasting relationships seemed to form part of the purpose itself. His imagination toyed with the idea of building a life around a mission that included other people and their wants and needs. It is not a solo mission, he said aloud softly. He wondered briefly and concluded that he didn't think anyone else heard him talking to himself. Maybe it would start a conversation if they did, he thought to himself with a grin.

Nathan walked on this busy street for a couple minutes more, and then he found that right turn that doesn't really lead anywhere. At least no one else was walking down here to get anywhere. The road was unimproved. On this road, there were only four rundown buildings to his left and right. Two on each side. From the laundry hanging outside and the belongings visible inside, Nathan could safely assume people lived in these buildings. Although, he hadn't seen anyone when he passed by. Perhaps he would meet them one day, he thought. He imagined walking by one day and meeting them as they are outside hanging laundry. He considered this way of living and wondered how he could be at peace living so simply. He briefly thought about some of the places he had slept and chuckled while walking by the broken walls of the second building.

Nathan passed the last building on his right side and veered slightly left as the forest began. An observer might think Nathan knew exactly where he was going. This little route was something he found after a few days of exploring. He was able to make his own path through the trees and into the forest. After a minute or so of moving through trees and brush, Nathan found himself popping out into a small oasis. Oasis is the word that came to Nathan's mind when he arrived there the first time. The oasis was a cleared area about two meters in diameter with branches and bushes scattered about. Plenty of space for one or two people. The ground had been cleared by a fallen tree that offered a surprisingly comfortable place for Nathan to sit. The tree must have been a recent fall because the forest hadn't really grown back around it yet. For Nathan, this felt like the right place to spend time with himself. He could sit comfortably, with very few bugs (surprising actually), and the only sounds were those of the forest. There were no voices, no vehicles, and no other sounds that might take Nathan's mind away from his oasis. He could hear the wind rustle through the leaves while birds sang from the nearby trees.

Seated on the fallen tree, surrounded by the lush forest of thick leaves, Nathan pulled his leather bag onto his lap. He considered for a moment how he would spend his oasis hour. From the bag, he pulled out his current book. The plan was as follows. This was Nathan's developing habit: twenty minutes reading something positive, twenty minutes of guided meditation, twenty minutes of Heart of the Rose.

Nathan wasn’t in as much of a hurry as he used to be. The planned hour wasn't something he stressed over, and it wasn't actually so rigid. He was at the oasis for nearly two hours just a few days prior. His leather bag made for a perfect backrest/pillow, and he placed the bag behind him for a little added comfort. He opened the book to where he left off, setting his bookmark on the tree beside him. Nathan read each page with intention and thought. His mind didn't wander from the page so often that day. The words captured his mind in a peculiar way, and his focus was purely on the message being received. After a few pages, Nathan looked up from the book to let his mind rest and digest these new ideas. These ideas didn't feel so new to Nathan, not in the sense that they were previously unheard of or unimaginable. They did, however, feel newly connected, relevant, and significant. Nathan was seeing timeless ideas with fresh eyes and renewed vigor. He felt as though he was remembering and drawing forth these ideas already contained deep within him.

As Nathan spent a few minutes thinking through the concepts, a thought flashed in his mind. He caught the thought almost instantly, labeled it as negative, and had an internal debate about how to handle it. It's not twenty minutes reading if you spend ten minutes daydreaming, was the thought he identified. This thought lacked compassion and didn't give any credit to the thinking time. Nathan wondered silently, do I just read for ten more minutes, or does this twenty count? That's when the observer of thoughts truly came to life for Nathan that day. He saw this thought and reminded himself that not every thought requires attachment. He recognized the micro-shaming his thoughts attempted, and he recognized that his attempt to negotiate and meet some standard was keeping the micro-shame alive. Nathan began to wonder if he should even engage with the thought and try to meet some standard that he himself was creating. Thoughts!, Nathan said aloud, in a slightly silly tone. He took a slow, deep breath. It's not so serious, he reminded himself with a gentle whisper. When Nathan realized he just spent ten minutes thinking about the ten minutes he had spent thinking, laughter overtook any remaining seriousness. With a smile and a laugh, Nathan read a few more pages of the book over the next ten minutes.