We can't reach old age by another man's road.
Do you ever feel like you are walking another person's road? Do you ever think you are just putting one foot in front of the other because the path is pretty and well-paved? Do you ever wonder how you got there, on that road, that road flanked by foliage and fear, big trees and other people's dreams?
What does your road look like? And how will you find it? Or will it find you?