The Road Not Taken
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 marked 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.
TCK-style restlessness is starting to set in. With regard to Columbia and grad school, I came, I saw, and while I can’t say my time there has been characterized by conquering, boredom is starting to encroach on my daily life; that, combined with the slowly growing conviction that I may be the worst counselor the world has ever seen, Dr. Kevorkian aside, has me playing with the idea of alternate routes.
One involves more schooling. . .positively gluttonous amounts of schooling. Brutal, I know–but the end result (in an ideal world) would involve the increased health of many marriages for years to come.
One involves very, very little in the way of schooling, at least schooling toward any degree. . .it would also probably involve homelessness, or at least “live-off-my-parents-for-the-rest-of-my-life-“bumlikeness”; but it would give me the chance to hone a certain skill set and the conviction that I was actually working in an area in which I’ve been gifted.
One is just running away in ministry’s clothing.
One is rationally impossible, but really nice to dream about.
My present route involves nothing in terms of movement, and a lot in terms of sucking things up and pressing forward toward a nebulous goal under the conviction that I was much more sane when I started this journey than I am now.
We’ll see. . .my tendency in life thus far is to finish what I start, at least with regard to life paths (with regard to day-to-day tasks, like cleaning my room. . .not so much). But the question that I haven’t been able to shake for the past several months is, “Is this really a life path that is still worth pursuing, given my current self and situation? And are the alternate ideas with which I’m flirting actually. . .reasonable/tangible/anything more than mere pipe dreams?”
We’ll see. Perhaps these alternate paths will come to naught. Perhaps I’ll take one or another up after I’m clutching a degree in my cold, clammy hand. Or maybe. . .not likely. . .but just maybe, I’ll finally get up the gumption to grow a backbone, throw caution to the wind, and fully embrace the insanity inherent in traveling one of those alternate routes.
PS: Anyone want to offer me a job? I’m not the brightest apple in the bunch, but I try to make up for it be smiling a lot, situational appropriateness be darned.