Today is San Francisco poet Robert Frost’s birthday, who graced the literary world with his universal and timeless themes in poems such as, “A Road Not Taken” and “Mending Wall.” To honor this day, I decided to write about my experience with my road not taken.
When I shared the news with my colleagues, family and friends that I was going to quit my job in order to pursue writing, I was met with mixed reviews. Some applauded me for having the courage to follow my dreams, others found it unfathomable. Why would I leave a job– one that offered medical benefits, vacation days, a dental plan and 401K? The safe choice might have been to continue working, enjoying the laurels of a stable career. But after 10 years of telling my students to ‘follow your dreams’ I finally decided to take my own advice.
Robert Frost calls this ‘The Road not Taken’ and describes it as the less popular and traveled one. It’s a common poem, one that I used to teach, but I couldn’t identify with, until recently.
When my job was posted and I saw over-qualified teachers with impressive resumes wanting my job or when I looked at my latest bank statement, it wasn’t easy for me to second guess my decision. I came to the realization that I could be replaced quickly and that my former steady paycheck would be cut in half or rapidly dwindle. Also, I had to consider that being a writer isn’t necessarily a coveted career choice. Some might say I was taking two steps backwards, not forward.
But fortunately I don’t have to look far to find comfort in my decision – like when I’ve noticed that it’s been seven months of fully immersing myself in my writing and I’m still able to support my decision financially. Or when I’m in a classroom filled with aspiring writers and we have discussions about plot, characters, and epiphanies. Or the most recent sign– when I stayed home Saturday night and finally dotted the period of the last sentence in my fourth short story. To some, these may be insignificant feats, but to me they are significant accomplishments reminding me that these achievements wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t been brave enough to make a different career choice.
As Frost reminds me, I know that when this part of my journey is over, I’ll have to create a new path. Maybe I’ll return to teaching, or maybe the road will lead me to a different direction. This Fall, I’ll be applying to MFA programs and if I’m accepted, I’ll have the opportunity to relocate in the bay area, state or possibly the country. Either way, it’ll be a new road, once again with a new set of possibilities.
The last lines in Frost’s poem state: “Two roads diverged in wood, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” These lines have really resonated with me. Sometimes I have to remind myself to take a moment and look at the road ahead of me while also appreciating the road behind me. I’ve taken some unusual turns, while rerouting and redirecting. Some may say I’m on a dangerous path, one filled with risks and the unknown. But that doesn’t discourage me. It’s more meaningful for me to remind myself that while a very important and meaningful road in my life has closed, I know a different and maybe an even more important one will open.
Happy birthday Robert Frost! This blog entry is dedicated to you.