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…
–The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
Frost had it easy. His double-road dilemma ends with him taking the road less traveled and having no regrets. He chooses his road simply for the reason that it is not common, and that is a virtue in itself. But what if Frost had had different standards? What if both of the roads had been the same in that no one had traveled them before? Neither one of them is ‘less traveled’ than the other, is it then?
What if one of the roads headed towards certainty and security, albeit one tinged with the blindness of a soul with closed eyes. What if the first road lead to a place where Frost could never feel comfortable, even though it was safe and conventional. What if it lead to a noisy and bothersome place where Frost would never find the silence so necessary for inner stillness and peace?
What if the second road was an unknown, what if it was a mystery from the beginning to the end? What if the only thing known about the road is that it was more tranquil, more smooth; able to be taken slowly and the traveler may have time to pause, to reflect, to listen, to ponder birdsong and marvel at sunlight.
The first road is comfortable mediocrity. The second is possible happiness above and beyond what the first road could ever lead to, but it may not even be open for you. The first is for sure, but the second is iffy. If you wait too long then both roads are closed to you. You may skip the first but there’s no guarantee you may travel the second. It’s a risky decision. What road would you guys take?