Carpe Diem

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

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 marked 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.

People have always told me that I have lots of potential -- potential to do whatever I set my mind to, potential to accomplish great things, potential to be successful, potential to be happy. Perhaps it was pressure I placed upon myself to live up to all that potential that made me very comfortable hoarding options, rather than committing to one road long enough to either find the waterfall at the end of it or to fall on my face in disappointment, failing to meet the expectation of seeing something grand. The idea of having options and potential appeals to me greatly -- it means that there is still hope for something better.

Having been schooled in economics, I can't help but call to mind the economics term "opportunity cost" to describe my thoughts. An opportunity cost is the cost of an alternative that must be forgone in order to pursue a certain action or, more simply put, the cost of the road not taken. It assumes that there is a finite amount of resources, which make choices and trade-offs a fact of life. When I start pondering the big decisions in life, such as career choice, future spouse, and place of residence, I find myself thinking about what I'm giving up, rather than what I stand to gain. It is a habit that has paralyzed me at times, and I feel as if I've been standing at a crossroad in life, staring blankly into the woods.

The problem in making choices for an overachiever like me is that I want it all. I want to be able to run down one road, have enough time and energy to run back, then run down the other road. But just as there are finite resources on Earth, I have only so much time and energy. And yet I've continued to stare and figure out a way to beat the system. Time is a wastin'. There is an opportunity cost to always having escape routes, not taking too many risks, and never fully committing to something with everything you've got. And that is, you'll never realize how far you can go. Potential remains just that unless it's converted to action, energy, and realized gains.

So here I find myself, sorry that I cannot travel both roads being one traveler. I've looked down many roads as far as I could, even strolled down a few, but now it's high time to choose a road and sprint it. I don't know where it'll lead, and I don't know what I'll be giving up. But at the end of my life, I don't want to still be standing here, staring down two roads.

Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Tu Ne Quaesieris.

Ask not ('tis forbidden knowledge), what our destined term of years,
Mine and yours; nor scan the tables of your Babylonish seers.
Better far to bear the future, my Leuconoe, like the past,
Whether Jove has many winters yet to give, or this our last;
This, that makes the Tyrrhene billows spend their strength against the shore.
Strain your wine and prove your wisdom; life is short; should hope be more?
In the moment of our talking, envious time has ebb'd away.
Seize the present; trust to-morrow e'en as little as you may.

-- The Odes of Horace, I.11