setting out.

A timely nugget of wisdom from 13th century Persian poet Rumi:

Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, "I'll do nothing until I can be sure." Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean.

Rumi's words make so much literal sense to me, I set out on boats all the time. There is never a guarantee that I will reach my destination, but life would be far less thrilling sitting on the dock, watching boats come and go.

I refuse to be someone who doesn't take a chance. I hope that I will always fight against my impulse to keep myself within the realm of comfort and familiarity. I don't want to hold myself in a box, I don't want to be motivated by fear.

Trust is the only thing I can do.

long i stood.

In The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost writes,

"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..."

As I have read this, I have often been inspired by Frost's penchant for the original and the unique, and thought about how I aspire to live in a way that expresses my own values of unconventionality and adventure.

That's nice for grassy meadows, but what about the path of life, and the major mile markers that are inherent on any road? When I think of the big (even the moderate) life decisions one must make at certain points along their journey, I am reminded of how difficult and unclear the choices can be.

I have ideals, but those are not enough to carry me. Recently, in trying to decide if I want to pack up and leave a home that I love to move across the country in pursuit of new experiences, I have been realizing deep fears that I never ever knew I had within me and I am feeling unsure if I ever even knew what I really wanted. The decision is not as easy as I thought it would be.

I find myself on this road that Frost speaks of, at that point where the paths split. I know with certainty that if I were able to travel two roads simultaneously, I would. But being only one person, I must choose between them. But long I stand, looking back and forth, wondering, imagining, analyzing, driving myself insane.

Frost concludes,

"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 hope that years from now, when I look back on this time in my life, I will be able to say that I made a decision, and it was good, and I will wonder why I put myself through so much mental and emotional turmoil trying to discern what was "right" from all of the voices calling me in separate directions.

But perhaps my goal should be something more than arriving at a decision. Perhaps the struggle is part of the road itself, just as much as the other parts, and perhaps I can find peace here too. Perhaps I will look at this, the process of deciding, as a time that shaped me and helped me to be the person I am becoming.

Either way, I know I must keep walking.