We all know that life leads us to pathways we decide to take or pass by. That one decision can then impact so many other decisions or choices we find. Variables lead to variables and soon the thing we thought we knew so well has become a new thing.
The thing about the path taken is like a Frost poem I remember.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
This has always confronted me and I’ve always felt that human tug to make a reasonable choice given those much vaunted variables. Here I sit now in a place I dislike with a job which matters less and less for whatever reason. I guess its because I’m tired of getting up in the mornings and driving across the bridge. I feel that the unchosen road is tugging at my coat lapels. Its telling me there is another turn down that path I should see.
I’ve probably quoted Edward Abbey a few times here. If you have not read Desert Solitaire you probably should. I’ll let you find it. That can be the road you take. Perhaps less traveled by or just a turn of the corner.
I know a day to come I will make a choice that will let me do what I want and not this short term thing. Staying in a place where there is only the past that confronts me Failed marriage, kids not kids any more but my daughter still insisting on seeing me weekly, jobs that have gone on my LinkedIn profile that matters less and less each day. Start and stop dates and percents complete in some project plan. Silly Icon Valley still funding startups and producing venture capital but not really have much moral cap. Working here is like spinning a dial on a game where you cannot see the numbers. There is the costing of living and the price of living. Both spin wildly out of orbit.
It leaves me wanting to take that road less chosen. Or as Abbey would say,
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.