I’ve spent a lot of January so far, particularly this week, thinking about life and choices we (I) have to make at some point.
Not deciding anything, just, thinking.
Life has it’s tips and turns. It brings challenges. Sometimes, things will inspire you. Sometimes, they will try to break you. Sometimes, you can be inspired by something that tried to, or nearly did, break you.
In a throwback to my English Literature A-Level, I vividly remembered this poem. I’ve never turned to a poem for guidance or any kind of comfort when times get tough. But, when faced with a difficult morning, I knew I had to find and read this poem. I found it in my campus’ Waterstones, not in a Robert Frost book, but in a “Penguin’s Poems for Life” book.
I know I’m not in the same position as my friends. I know that I’m not doing anything wrong. I am, and I will continue to be, stronger than the things and people that may try to break me. I’ll find my path at some point. Until then, I’ll wait in the yellow wood.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo 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 thereHad worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally layIn 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 sighSomewhere 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.