I quote, therefore I think: A tale of two roads

And I think:

It is no secret that poetry, especially good poetry, comes with nuances of insight, wisdom or meaning deftly woven within it. In my childhood days, poems were about rhyming and fun stories. Now, I am only beginning to glimpse the depths behind the often deceptively simple ingenuity.

One such glimpse is where we frequently find ourselves, at Frost’s two roads: the need to choose, to decide. What if both (or more) roads seem equal? What if neither is particularly appealing? We grab a chair and plant ourselves at the crossroads, maybe even set up camp. Camp Crossroads. Fear, avoidance, the desperate need for certainty can weigh us down and lock us in.

Sorry I could not travel both. Frost’s words seem to echo what our ego desires; to predict and control the future, to keep us safe and comfortable. Camp Crossroads increasingly feels like a smart, safe way to go. Or rather, stay.

But as Frost makes clear in this poem, it is the act of choosing that is the most important thing.

The act of moving forward is what matters.

The root of the word “decide” means, literally, to “cut off”. To decide for something means to decide against something else.

Making a choice might mean taking a risk and losing something in the process, if only it is never knowing what might have happened if you took the other path.

Not making a choice (i.e., Camp Crossroads) might mean safety, but also missing out on possibilities, a better, richer life. It might mean a life filled with regrets.

It’s less about what road you take, and more about the fact that you take one.

Moving forward is an act of choosing, even at the most confusing of crossroads. How do you choose well in the face of uncertainty? You choose in alignment with your purpose, your values, your truth. In doing so you are making a commitment. This act itself calls forth a power, an entirely new energy that you did not know you had.

And that makes all the difference.