Robert Frost Revisited

One of my favorite poems ever, if not my all-time favorite, is "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. If you did not know this before, well, you do now.

Since reading it for the first time, it rang true within me. Even though I look about as straight-laced as Wally from "Leave it to Beaver," I love the idea of daring to be different from the norm and taking the unknown path in life.

Sometimes when this idea becomes reality, things can get a little scary.

In theory, being the guy that ventures on out to uncharted territory is cool...like Louis & Clark when they ventured out to the Western US, or Heisenberg when he defied Albert Einstein (I mean, you gotta have scruples to do that right?) and other brilliant minds with his wildly innovative (and now accepted) uncertainty principle in the first half of the 20th century.

If you're not O.M.G.-ing at my previous examples, then maybe these will help illustrate the type of feeling I'm trying to convey:

- Batman standing up to Gotham corruption.
- Abe Lincoln standing up against the slavery-dependent South.
- The little kid that freed Willy.

In reality, taking the unknown path in life is a little more complicated than the cool story that comes afterwards. When you actually start to take that unworn path, doubts come from all over.

Should I really be going this way? Does the path take a right or a left turn here? Why has this path not been blazed recently? Was that a tick? Should I turn around, go back, and re-think things?

I'm sure that the possibility of getting assassinated for his stance on things had crossed through Lincoln's mind, just like Batman probably wondered if he was gonna make it through the battle against the Joker...and we all know that without the miracle of CGI, Willy would have only landed on the little kid and then died, finalizing the movie's huge emotional build up (complete with Michael Jackson theme song) with extreme disappointment and lots of traumatized little kids leaving the theater.

For me, deciding against dentistry and choosing to stay in the area with the idea of developing a career out of ministry feels like I'm continuing on the unworn path even though I've just spotted bear tracks.

...as in the type that belong to KILLER BEARS!

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"...and it has made all the difference."

Most people probably take this to mean that the character in the poem made it big...that he experienced lots of success landing him some sort of book deal, or documentary, or at least a village homecoming party.

Instead, I'm thinking that perhaps taking the unworn path makes such a huge difference because we learn just how much of a gift our lives are. First, this comes in the form of fear because a lot of times, it means leaving our comfort zones. Rather than flipping out over a mosquito orbiting your ear, we're thinking about that killer bear prowling about. We become thankful for each day.

After a while, we even start worrying a little less about the killer bear. As it turns out, a lot of the things we think we absolutely can't live without are really just extra layers of comfort.

Finally, we get to a point where we begin to see and enjoy how God provides for the things we really need, and then some. Aside from the fact that we're still alive and well while on this unknown path, we almost start preparing for the possibility that the bear might show up and juggle ping pong balls while riding on a unicycle.

For me, traveling the unknown path is about trusting in God's direction even when I have no clue where that is going. Right now, I feel like I've crossed over several sets of bear tracks. The doubt in me is just waiting for the killer claw to come out...but the faithful part of me just knows that what I'll get instead is the juggling bear act of a lifetime.

...on music and dancing.

Before you can make any sense out of this entry, I must tell you that I will use music and dancing almost interchangeably...not because they are one and the same, but because it can be assumed that any time there is music playing, there's a 99% chance that I'm dancing.

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These days I've started to wonder exactly why is it that I love dancing. I know relatively very few guys that share this passion as I do (actually, do I know any?), and unfortunately a lot of guys that dance seem to do it with motives entirely different from mine. For me, it's not about being sleazy, or about pride, or about any sort of horizontal anything...it's about the music and I.

But why?

Well, I think it's something like this. Music within my life is like stopping to eat dinner at a nice restaurant during a long trip where the rental car is cramped and has an a/c that is about as effective as a squirrel blowing air off an ice cube. You know, the kind of dinner experience that almost makes you forget that you have another 9+ hours to go. As soon as a great song (maybe even a cheesy song) comes on, there is an instant connection between the innermost alleles of my soul and each beat, phrase, measure, rhythm, and chord. Every bitter pill of the day, or week, or month, just gets dimmed out.

For me it's better than any amount of alcohol, or even a large tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. I just put a song on, and whether it's a 3-minute 30-second session or an evening-long event, I forget about schedules, finances, worries, and insecurities.

Ultimately, I do end up facing the real Goliaths in my life...but at least when things seem to be at their worst, it buys me the time I need to gather my wits for the battle.