The Road Not Taken

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. 

                                               Robert Frost

This poem has always stood for me as a kind of mortar to the bricks that built the way that I thought about my future.  I am, and always have been, a bit a risk-lover. This poem suggests, on the surface, that were I to take a less common route in life that I would end up happier, wiser, and better. And indeed, this could be true. How should I know? 

There is another interpretation of this poem. And quite disappointingly to me, this interpretation is favored by critics to be the intention of Frost. Reportedly, the poem is instead about regret and personal myth-making, rationalizing our decisions.  In this interpretation, the final two lines:

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

are ironic – the choice made little or no difference at all, the
speaker's protestations to the contrary. The narrator admits in the
second and third stanzas that both paths may be equally worn and
equally leaf-covered, and it is only in his future recollection that he
will call one road "less traveled by."

Is this possibly the real case in life? Supposing that no matter what path we take in life, we'll end up in the same place or at least the same state of mind? That conclusion relies heavily on predetermined fate, and I don't know if I believe in fate... or do I? I always say, everything happens for a reason, and when something bad happens to me, I always console myself with karma. Will life end up the same no matter what? If so, why the hell would I ever take the rocky path even if the view on the way is a spectacular bluff? I may as well save myself the twisted ankle and sore muscles, and take the well-trodden path. After all, the meadows and sparkling creeks are very pleasant.

But I'm still missing the mark. Really what Frost is doing is just making fun of a bunch of old farts who like to talk about how they made glorious decisions that made them who they are. Well, what if I actually make a glorious decision??  I mean, making any decision is hard for me. If you've ever read that first play I wrote, Quirks, that main character, Indecisive Anne--- that's me. I seriously stood in Whole Foods last night agonizing over a fucking cupcake or a piece of pie.

What I mean to say is... I'm at a fork. I feel like I'm always at a goddamn fork, and I know I do it to myself! But I've already been walking for a while, and I'm tired. Honestly I feel a bit like taking the easy path just now. All that shade and company. It would be so nice to share the burden of all of my baggage with fellow travelers.

But something inside of me is burning. It's this desire to make the hard choices, so that in the end, I will have all the difference. And then my life will have been great. And I will sigh. But not with regret! With satisfaction. I hope. I really really hope. 

Besides, I'll always have my number one partner. And that bluff is supposed to be spectacular...



I hope I get in.