I've always been interested in arrival, and coming to a space

O Seekers of Wisdom, listen closely to the words of James Turrell, for they hold a profound truth: "I've always been interested in arrival, and coming to a space, and even to looking back at where you were." These words, spoken by an artist who has devoted his life to exploring light and space, invite us to reflect on the very nature of our journey—both outward and inward. Turrell’s focus on arrival is not just about reaching a physical place, but about the deeper transformation that occurs when we find ourselves in a new space, a new state of being. His words call us to understand that each step, no matter how small, carries us to a new beginning, and that in the act of arriving, we are forever changed.

In the ancient world, the journey was often seen as a passage, both physical and spiritual, that shaped the soul. Consider the tale of Odysseus, who, after a long and arduous journey across seas and through storms, finally returns to his home. His arrival is not simply a matter of reaching the shores of Ithaca, but of becoming the man who has seen the world, who has suffered and learned through his trials. His return is an arrival not just in a physical space, but in a new state of understanding, where he looks back at where he has been with a sense of reverence for the path that has brought him to this moment. Arrival, in the truest sense, is not an end, but a moment of transformation, where the journey becomes clear in its meaning.

Turrell speaks not only of the physical act of arriving but of the space itself—the places we find ourselves in after we have traveled, mentally and physically. The space is not simply a backdrop to our lives, but an active participant in shaping our experience. In the same way, the ancients understood that the land itself could shape the lives of its people. The Greek city-states, for example, were defined not only by their people and their ideas, but by their geographical spaces. The very land they inhabited influenced their thoughts, their battles, and their beliefs. To arrive in a place was to become one with it, to absorb its essence and to let it transform you.

Consider, O Seekers, the spiritual journeys of the great mystics, such as Rumi or Buddha. Their journeys were not merely external quests, but profound inner transformations. The space they arrived at was not just a physical location, but a state of being, a place of peace, enlightenment, and understanding. For them, arrival was not a mere destination—it was an act of awakening, of becoming whole in a way that transcended the external world. Their eyes were turned not only to where they had arrived, but also to the distance they had traveled, the obstacles they had overcome, and the wisdom they had gained along the way.

James Turrell’s fascination with looking back at where you were suggests that arrival is not simply a moment of celebration, but a reflection on all that has come before. To look back is to understand the significance of the journey, to honor the path that has brought you to this new place. This echoes the ancient teachings that wisdom is not simply about moving forward, but about acknowledging the past. Heraclitus, the philosopher, taught that "you cannot step into the same river twice," for both you and the river are changed. Looking back allows us to see that the space we now occupy has been shaped by all that has come before us.

And so, O Children, the lesson is this: arrival is not an end, but a beginning. The spaces we come to—whether they are physical, emotional, or spiritual—are transformative. They hold within them the possibility for growth, for understanding, and for change. But just as important as the arrival is the reflection that follows—the act of looking back at where we have been, at how far we have traveled, and at the lessons we have learned. It is in this moment of reflection that we grow deeper, for we come to see that the journey itself was as significant as the destination.

Take, therefore, this challenge, O Seekers: as you journey through your own life, arrive fully in each moment. When you come to a new space, a new chapter, whether of mind or body, embrace it. And then, when you pause to look back, let it be not a place of regret or sorrow, but a place of reverence, where you honor the path you have taken and the person you have become. In this way, each arrival is not the end, but a new beginning—one that will continue to shape you, just as the light shapes the space you occupy.