The Road Not taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, 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 travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
We don't always know what road to take in life do we? We hem, we haw, we justify, we even ignore for a time hoping it will just go away. Unlike this poem, we rarely have the opportunity to redo or try again. There is beauty in that fact. Beauty in the confidence of making a decision because there was no other choice. Sometimes choice, or too many of them does nothing but muddy the waters with fear of the unknown result or indecision in fear of the resulting reaction. The next time you have to make a decision, transform anxiety of the unknown into excitement of the possibilities.
