two roads diverged in a yellow wood

posted on: Friday, June 27, 2014

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When I was in high school, I discovered songwriting. Poetry. Some nights, I couldn’t fall asleep until almost three in the morning, not until I got the words that I found rummaging through my head onto paper. Sometimes rhyming, sometimes not. It was where I cleared my head, so that I could finally drift into a peaceful sleep.

Robert Frost was and still is my favorite poet. I made the mistake of telling my English teacher that. As a freshman, it’s not the coolest thing in the world to have a favorite poet. It was even less cool when that teacher announced it to the entire class. Looking back now, I love it and couldn’t care less, but isn’t life so much more more dramatic in the ninth grade?

Anyway, Robert Frost. I was thinking about his most famous poem tonight…

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.

My life, in all of its short 27 years, has felt like the road less traveled by. I like it that way, but it’s confusing to many. It’s confusing to me sometimes, to tell you the truth. I research people in similar areas of life, hoping to find someone with answers. Hoping to find a path with footsteps to follow. Instructions on how they got from A to Z. The “Z” being what I want for my life. But, I don’t. I can’t seem to find that person. I find myself thinking that, perhaps that means it can’t be done. That thought is so very wrong. I can do it. I can make my own path to my own end goal. Maybe then, someday, another 27-year-old girl will be looking for someone and she’ll find me, the one who took the less-traveled road, and her dreams will feel that much more possible. I like the thought of that.

  • The road less traveled is often the one filled with more adventures! Too often, we are too focused on the end game and don’t appreciate the journey to get there!

  • Absolutely, Katy. This is so true! I often forget to stop and appreciate the journey, especially when I feel a new chapter is approaching. I just want to get to the point where I can turn the page and see what’s going to happen, but then I miss out on so much in the present. Thank you for the reminder!

  • Lauren

    I feel that way so often, that I’m doing something strange and different with my life, and one of the best consolations if I couldn’t find anybody to look up to, maybe other women will find me.

  • Exactly! Glad to know I’m not the only one who feels like this. It can be tough, but we press on, right?