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.
Have you ever been in a conundrum?
Between a rock and a hard place?
A pickle, even?
I am currently reclined on aforementioned pickle. Feet up. Staying a while.
The thing is—this situation was once a refreshing cucumber… but I, in my infinite folly and naivety, allowed it to be submerged in vinegar or whatever the hell you soak cucumbers in to ruin them. And now, I am desperately trying to get this pickle I’m in… er… on… to go back to it’s crunchy, bright green ways.
What about making lemonade out of lemons? Should I just make the most of a bad situation? Not to say that pickles are bad. Some people really like pickles. (If you deep fry them, I’m a fan!) What if I stopped trying to change this pickle back to its vegetable roots and just made it plain ol’ delicious? Or what if I just learned to appreciate the pickle for what it is, exactly where it is, and how it is?!
That’s kind of like taking the road less traveled, right?
I’ve got CS Lewis quotes for you:
“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”
― C.S. Lewis
Eternally Seeking Guidance,