A Frosty Divergence

Certainty is a peculiar notion. It's something we so desperately covet, yet once acquired, we take it for granted.

From the age of twelve I knew what direction my life was going to take. I completed my list of top ten colleges to apply to before I entered high school, having stayed up many nights carefully examining every school in the Fiske Guide to Colleges. I became obsessed with the idea of college. However, junior year rolled around and I barely made it to my SATs. And senior year came and went without a single application submitted. I didn't even attend prom or graduate with the people I'd grown up with. How did I abandon the dream so completely?

It's funny how certain we are about things sometimes. And sometimes, when those things don't happen, it feels as though a part of us dies. But, as J.M. Barrie said, "To die would be an awfully big adventure." And through the death of ourselves, we connect to a phoenix-like spirit hidden deep within us.

So how did I get here?

I started out instinctively walking into that forest of life, letting my feet lead the way. Then my brain and heart both tried to take over and in the melee, I ended up on an entirely different path. When the battle smoke dissipated, I found myself in a clearing, and blissful as it was, it felt stagnant. Life was meant to move forward. I needed to get out of the clearing, so I built my own trail. It was tough going at first, removing the rocks and trees that stood in my way. Then I learned how to read the landscape and in a way, let the path choose its own course. Certain trees were meant to stand and ended up enhancing the now curvier trail. And sometimes it was better to use the rocks to build stairs, rather than riddling a slope with switchbacks.

Recently, my path intersected with the one I'd followed to the clearing. I'd become so invested in my own path that I was beginning to forget the existence of the original path. But here I was standing on a common ground that felt so unfamiliar. It's perplexing. Do I walk back the way I came? Do I keep blazing a new trail? Do I try my luck again on the original path? And if I do, do I go forwards or backwards and how can I tell the difference?