Tucked away in out subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are travelling by train.

Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a steel plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flat lands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and town halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving.

Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering — waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

When we reach the station, "that will it!" we cry. "When I'm 40." "When I have no debt." "When I buy a new car." When I put the last kid through university." "When I get a promotion." "When I retire" — I shall live happily ever after!

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip! The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. "Relish the moment," is a good motto.

It isn't the burdens of today that drive us mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and fear of tomorrow. Regrets and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, go for more walks, spend more time with your kids, go barefoot more often, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.