Time in reverse is a strange thing to witness.
Looking back at life up to this point and realizing the weird winding paths that led up to this point. It almost seems cosmically coincidental in many ways, like there was some predestination sort of providence.
I've been spending time looking backwards lately. One to identify where I have come from, where I've been. The other is to examine if the trajectory has been true. And while not necessarily a straight vector, the journey to the now has been purposeful.
It's always a path forward. Even if not the shortest path, it is the path the terrain allowed. This is a hike, it has ups and it has downs. It has times to stop and take it all in. And it has times where you just focus on putting one step in front of the other.
And I think that's what life is... Movement. Sometimes backwards to find a different path. But movement. The purpose is the journey, not the destination.
Simply, the meaning IS the movement.