Life is about unpredictability.
We can never know where exactly we’re going. Sure we can plan and all, but ultimately it is what fate has already decided for us. Or for those more religiously inclined – God has it all planned out for us.
My mother has a saying, “Man proposes, God disposes.”
Despite quotes as such, my little brain wants me to plan, plan, plan. What is life without some direction? Where am I heading? What is it that I want with life?
Why is it that man cannot be satisfied with what he has?
And so, when things seem bound to go southward, it is somehow in my nature to cut it while it is still fresh. The wound, I will bleed from shall be but shallow at this moment in time. It will only fester, and grow murky if I leave it be for too long till my limbs ultimately rot from it.
Yet, as I contemplate the rightfulness of my decision to remove something that could be the best thing in my life – I wonder if I’m making too rash a decision.
I am known for whirlwind decisions, spontaneity. I believe in doing things immediately. It is not without some notion behind it. I put thought behind decisions. However, it could be that the thought behind each action is not as thought out the best that it could be.
And as I contemplate the paths that I should rightly take, perhaps it is time to leave it to fate. It is time to put my hands together, and pray to the divine. What is man to say what is right, or what is wrong. Perhaps either decision would serve me well, though both will lead me to where I am not today.
I leave with a poem by Robert Frost.
To decisions, pathways, diverging down the road, and to man who would ultimately choose one to take. To life, worth living.
p/s: Sister has mentioned that she prefers the other interpretation of this poem, and the supposedly ‘correct’ one. It was also referred to in the show ‘Orange Is The New Black’ and you can read the ‘correct’ interpretation of the poem here.
To me though, is there ever really a correct way to interpret poems? Hmm.