It’s Friday and I was going to post a picture of a dog or a baby or a funny looking turkey bird and keep it light.
But then I found a picture I took the other day while running. It’s of two streets on a boulevard near my house with trees that arch and bend to shape a perfect canopy. It’s a relatively simple photo, but it made me think about choices. About the fact that at any given moment in life we have a choice: to run against traffic or with it. To be happy or be a victim. To forgive or to dwell. To smile or to frown. To speak up or to remain quiet. To live big or to let the moment pass us by.
I choose to love. And to smile. And to make every moment count.
When I was in high school, I printed a poem off the computer and taped it in the back of my notebook. When I was tempted to follow the crowd instead of my heart, I would read it. It’s served me well.
The road not taken: Robert Frost
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 kept 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.