Half the journey

Wang Anshi climbed Baochan Mountain with a group. They took torches into a deep cave. The further in they went, the more difficult the passage.

They were still going when someone in the group said: if we don't get out now, the torches will burn out. Everyone agreed and they turned around.

They hadn't gone far. When they got out, news came that there was a good deal more of the cave further in, and that the people after them had gone on and seen it.

Wang Anshi writes the regret plainly. If I had kept going, and if I had come to a place where I couldn't advance, then I would at least have had no complaint. But the thing that stopped us was a man who wanted to go back.

Then the essay turns into a small theory of achieving anything. It needs the will, a body that can do it, and the equipment. None of those is enough alone. And a lot of people who had all three still didn't arrive, for one reason: they didn't have something to compare against.

What he means by that is memory. Most people don't know what they've actually done. They can't see that they were four metres from the end, because nobody counted.

That's why he wrote the essay on the wall of the cave. To leave evidence that the turning back was small, so the next person would know.

Keep a record, even of the boring parts. It's the only thing that keeps you honest about how far you came.

MOJOWAY keeps the boring record of how far you got, so the next turning back is a decision rather than an accident.