In thinking of this week’s post, I came to a life-changing realization while sitting in a steam room for over 30 minutes.
About a month prior to this eye opening steam session, I went to a local warehouse rave in Salt Lake, and in the back of this building was a box full of trinkets and string to make bracelets and necklaces and in this box I found a tree of life symbol (as what’s shown on the cover photo).
I thought, well, I haven’t worn a necklace since I was in elementary school and can’t even remember what it was back then. I like this symbol even though I only vaguely know what it symbolizes, and so I will string it up and where it.
A month or so has passed as I haven’t taken it off.
In that steam room I realized that the tree is but a metaphor for myself, and that my being is contained in the seed, and my soul or chi or whatever you want to call it is contained in the seed.
As the tree grows, it branches out in many directions, but always up, and always towards light. Those branches are the many decisions in our life, the many forks in the road. And so begins this post…
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
The thinking of a choice in many ways supersedes the choice itself, and the stress that follows.
Rober Frost doesn’t suggest that one path is better or worse than the other, only that he chose to take the less traveled one, the one that others are afraid to take or hesitant because of any risks or fear of failure.
I have faced this fork in the road many times in my own life:
Choosing whether to start a career after college or backpack the US and Europe.
Choosing whether to move to salt lake city or keep being a nomad.
Choosing whether to start working full time or keep at gig work.
Choosing whether to dive into an intimate relationship or stay single.
At every fork in the road, as Mr. Frost writes, there is a feeling of wanting to travel both roads, to experience both branches of the timeline. But we cannot be in two places at once and we cannot live two lives simultaneously.
Sometimes, the road we take will lead us right back to the same fork, as if discreetly turning left and left and left until it circles right back around.
I think of bad habits here, that take repeating over and over and over again until we finally recognize the fork in the road as if it was brightly lit with a neon sign, “Do NOT go left!”
We may not know where exactly a road may lead, as only the creator can know that, but mindfulness gives us deeper intuition by which to navigate the forks.
The full awareness of where we are in this very moment includes the full awareness of where we were weeks, months, and years ago.
It is in this full awareness that our intuition can guide us and lead us down the road less traveled by.
The end of this poem reminds me so much of going on my first ever backpacking trip. All I had was a 40L backpack, some money saved up, a good working phone, good friends waiting to meet me in far away places, and lungs full of grateful air.
I chose to step outside my comfort zone, give way to the power of uncertainty, and that has made all the difference.
What we do inside our comfort zone pales in comparison to what we experience outside our comfort zone.
It is said that life is not a destination to get to but a reality to experience. The mere thought of what’s out there can lead us to discover what’s out there.
I am fortunate to have grown up in a military family traveling the world, riding a donkey through the narrow canyons to Petra, learning to surf the great waves of Oahu, sliding down snow covered hills in Southern Germany, walking through the great cathedral halls of the Vatican, and leaning over the edge of a wooden boat on its way to Masera Island.
I have seen, done, and experienced so much in my short 31 years on Earth. Each travel validates the last, reminding me why I am a nomad at heart.
The branches of our tree do not just include our choices, but also the generations of choices before us. The choice of my parents to join the military before I was born brought me to this very moment.
And before them, the choice of my grandparents to build a life and start a family after a World War.
And before them, the choice to endure the Great Depression, save all they could, and raise children.
And before them, the choice to travel west, seeking opportunity, prosperity, and adventure.
And on and on, to the most difficult task of escaping Britain’s tyranny with a handful of other families to sail across the vast Atlantic in order to start anew in an unknown land.
All of my ancestor’s choices influence my choices today. The hardship, determination, gratitude, joy, humor, all of it down to my DNA is a product of a millenia of choices.
And all that leads on from here is a product of my choices, that I have control over. It is a sense of agency that sprouts purpose into my life.
Two roads diverged in a wood and I –
Sat to meditate.
Three More Things:
