Jun 19 2009
June 20th 2009
For a time in my life, and I so hope that it returns, the roads I traveled were in America. They were exciting roads, crowded with wonder at every twist and turn. Everything was new in its own way, I feel like it was a time of constant wonderment and much thinking. As time goes on I find myself hungering for the road trips with Susan into the mountains or plane rides to new places, be they here or there.
I love being on the road.
The road of daily grind is one that I am struggling with today. Dreaming gets tiring. You develop two separate lives that each sap your strength in different ways but they are both necessary. One begins when the other finishes. Who only works an 8 hour day. Certainly not dreamers. Two road confront the dreamer. One is your daily grind life, work and all that entails, and the other is the dream road, the one you need to travel to get to some other preferred destination. It’s a future you are trying to create, a different life or one that more reflects who you want to be. The sad thing I know is that you may miss the sights on the road you are traveling as you try to build the one ahead.BUT this is not new ground, many have traveled this path and so must I. I want to do both roads justice, they have a symbiotic kind of relationship. Saturday morning chores are calling. The reality of the road.
I just read this blog and relate to what you say. I laid off from a job in engineering about 8 years ago and lost that 8 hour work day (Thank goodness.) Not sure I could go back an 8×8 cube in front of computer. The work I have now works for me to travel the two paths you talk about. As a flight attendant I get about 10-15 days off a month, plenty of time to travel the on preferred destinations. Those destinations seem muddy to me at times and crystal clear at other times, but I continue to walk at my pace. I like this way of journeying.
I added a link to this blog on my wordpress. Hope that is okay.
Hiya Graham,
Couldn’t help thinking of Robert Frost’s poem ‘The Road Not Taken’ while reading your comment today…
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.