my epiphany-- Por "T"
i had an epiphany yesterday. it was due largely in part to an assignment for my english 314 class in which i explicated robert frost's "the road not taken." most everyone looks at "the road not taken" as a poem of inspiration to take the other path-- to break out of the norm and "take the high road" as it were. i, being the surly cuss i am, decided to take a completely different point of view. i decided to show how it is a poem filled with regret. the voice of the poem regrets not having chosen the worn path and having missed out on everything it could have given him. it was a pretty good paper.
and it got me thinking.
i've done some stupid things in my life just for the sake of doing them. i'm young and in my mind that gave me the right to do irresponsible things-- not because everyone else was doing them, but because i was curious. i thought of it as my only chance to get all of my wildness out of my system and "experience life" before i settled back down.
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;
some time in the past few years i found myself standing at a fork in the path of my life. there was the beaten path that i knew i was expected to go on and there was the curiously alluring second path. they both looked the same, basically. there were no thorny hedges or wild beasts prowling the less-traveled path. it looked just as calm and just as... good.
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,
so i took it, telling myself i'd go back and take the other after i'd satisfied my curiosity.
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.
knowing how way leads on to way... it's like a chain reaction. you make one decision, which slides you into another and another, until you want to go back and start over but it's too late. you can't even remember where the other path was.
i look at some of my wilder friends-- they're reaching 30 and they're still doing the same things they were when they were my age. they're stagnant. they did a lot of stupid stuff and lived life in the fast lane and at 30, when they should be starting families and setting down roots and making their mark on the world, they're still renting crappy apartments where they pretend to party their stagnation away on the weekends. or weeknights. they're not doing anything really. I don't want to be like that. I want a husband who is strong and steady and good, and who loves me because I'm strong and steady and good. I want children. I want to be a good mother. I want roots.
sure, both paths started out looking the same. eventually, though, one leads into a burnt, ashy wasteland and the other leads to a quiet, grassy clearing with tiny yellow flowers and a warm sun.
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.
i can still see where the other path started. i haven't completely lost my way yet. i choose the sun.
and it got me thinking.
i've done some stupid things in my life just for the sake of doing them. i'm young and in my mind that gave me the right to do irresponsible things-- not because everyone else was doing them, but because i was curious. i thought of it as my only chance to get all of my wildness out of my system and "experience life" before i settled back down.
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;
some time in the past few years i found myself standing at a fork in the path of my life. there was the beaten path that i knew i was expected to go on and there was the curiously alluring second path. they both looked the same, basically. there were no thorny hedges or wild beasts prowling the less-traveled path. it looked just as calm and just as... good.
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,
so i took it, telling myself i'd go back and take the other after i'd satisfied my curiosity.
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.
knowing how way leads on to way... it's like a chain reaction. you make one decision, which slides you into another and another, until you want to go back and start over but it's too late. you can't even remember where the other path was.
i look at some of my wilder friends-- they're reaching 30 and they're still doing the same things they were when they were my age. they're stagnant. they did a lot of stupid stuff and lived life in the fast lane and at 30, when they should be starting families and setting down roots and making their mark on the world, they're still renting crappy apartments where they pretend to party their stagnation away on the weekends. or weeknights. they're not doing anything really. I don't want to be like that. I want a husband who is strong and steady and good, and who loves me because I'm strong and steady and good. I want children. I want to be a good mother. I want roots.
sure, both paths started out looking the same. eventually, though, one leads into a burnt, ashy wasteland and the other leads to a quiet, grassy clearing with tiny yellow flowers and a warm sun.
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.
i can still see where the other path started. i haven't completely lost my way yet. i choose the sun.
posted by Brenda at 11:07 AM
4 Comments:
oooh. Muy profundo! I appreciate the slant you've taken on Frost. Kudos! And amen.
Myself, I don't see two paths but a monstrous conflux of choices, although as I was trekking to Salt Lake the other day I noticed how the "right" choice is staying in the lines. None of us question the logic of driving WITH traffic. Were anyone to veer into oncoming traffic they would be considered suicidal or homicidal. So we stay in the lines to keep from crashing and burning. So much for divergent roads. Frost, of course, says it better.
This post got me so excited. When I was in high school, I did a careful reading of that poem. A YELLOW wood? Hmm, yellow is a color of caution. I went on from there, "and that has made all the difference." People always want to see it is inspirational... probably because most people naturally cling to hope and happiness. Which are wonderful things, don't get me wrong, but to just accept that, and to not dig further into the poem... yeah. And then to welcome me into Relief Society, they gave me a framed copy of the poem to encourage me. Not so encouraging with my (and your) interpretation.
This made me cry, Brenda. It's just how I've been feeling for the past while... and you said it so well.
I love you, chickie.
taylor-- please don't go into on-coming traffic. we may be ready to transcend the concept of normal driving patterns, but the rest of the world just isn't yet. in time, i hope we will all be provided with flying cars. then the sky will be the limit! mwah hahahahaha!!
liz-- hooray for those of us who recognize the non-happy-happy-joy-joy inner conflict of poets. that's what i find so much fun about english-- one word can mean a thousand different things. to those who still want to interpret it as an encouraging piece about individuality, i say good for you. it's still a good poem and i found inspiration in it-- just in a different way.
chels-- i love you too, chickie pie. thiiiis much. :) i miss you. call me. i got rid of my cell, so call me at home. i miss our sunday soires. MWAH!!
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