Dig IT.

I've been reading through On the Road in mental preparation for what's about to come, and a passage grabbed me that I felt fitting to the spirit of the journey.

"Oh, man! man! man! moaned Dean. "And it's not even the beginning of it - and now here we are at last going east together, we've never gone east together, Sal, think of it, we'll dig Denver together and see what everybody's doing although that matters little to us, the point being that we know what IT is and we know TIME and we know that everything is really FINE." The he whispered, clutching my sleeve, sweating, "Now you just dig them in front. They have worries, they're counting the miles, they're thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they'll get there - and all the time they'll get there anyway, you see. But they need to worry and betray time with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiny, their souls really won't be at peace unless they can latch on to an established and proven worry and having once found it they assume facial expressions to fit and go with it, which is, you see, unhappiness, and all the time it all flies by them and they know it and that too worries them no end. Listen! Listen!" He was poking me furiously in the ribs to understand. I tried my wildest best. Bing, Bang, it was all Yes! Yes! Yes! in the back seat and the people up front were mopping their brows with fright and wishing they'd never picked us up at the travel bureau. It was only the beginning, too.
Somewhere along the line I knew there'd be girls, visions, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me.

Thanks Jack.