One can either be pushed or be driven.
In both there’s motion, there’s flow and there’s vitality associated with the flow and movement. The lugging is hard and testing, it’s also necessary. The days when sun shows it’s might and the days when sky gods reign terror, the wheels strut along all the same.
The continuous push and pull creates shear, tension, pressure and builds character as well. The cracks and wounds badges of honour. The smoothened edges, a sign of maturity.
And then after years when someone dawns on the realisation of what it means to be a cart. One says - either keep pushing me or push me to rest absolutely. Do not make me an object of choice, but of necessity !!