Here's another one I found in my notebook. This is from about a year ago, when I was doing writing practice with a couple of friends. There are two notes at the top of the page: "(Decorative soap)" and "Luis Rodriguez."Here I am in the middle of a forest. There's a path over there. Hmm...How the hell did I get here, anyway?
Paths are meant to be walked on, but they don't occur naturally.
I remember reading an analysis of "The Road Less Taken" by Robert Frost. I think most people assume that the end of the poem is happy or optimistic. This writer, though, said that maybe the fact that the speaker in the poem took the road less traveled isn't such a great thing. Maybe the "difference" in "and that has made all the difference" is actually regret. Because who built that less-traveled road anyway? Where did it lead to? Loneliness? Despair? Maybe sometimes the best path is the one that's been proven to work. Maybe the smoothest ride is the best, for obvious reasons. Who wants to struggle, anyway?
I saw Alice Walker being interviewed in L.A. a couple of years ago. It was at the Festival of Books and I just saw her for a few minutes. I was standing on the outskirts of the crowd. I remember what she said, though. She said this is the way life works: We fall in love, we get our hearts broken, we learn, and we start all over again.
I start walking on the path and I don't feel very happy about it. I'm lost, after all. What difference does a path make if I'm lost? It could get me even more lost if I follow it.
Maybe being lost is being found. When I'm lost I can't think of anything else besides the fact that I'm lost. Being lost means I'm free because I don't know where I am. I can't say what defines me. I'm simply myself. And everything. All at once.
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