The Fork

You're standing where the road splits in two. You've been standing here since last spring. Both roads look fine. That's the problem.

Stay or go. This job or the other one. You've made the lists. You've asked everyone. You're almost ready to decide.

So you think it through once more. A few steps to the left, to see how it feels. A few steps to the right. And back. Every evening, the same small circle.

From the outside, it looks like nothing is happening. No one has moved. Nothing has changed. Only the grass is gone where you've been walking. And you tell yourself you're still thinking.

And you wonder why you're exhausted, when you haven't gone anywhere. You're not indecisive. You're careful. You wanted a guarantee, and roads don't give those. No amount of thinking will show you the end of a road you haven't walked.

So look down for once. Not at the two roads. At the ground under your feet. Look at what all that thinking has drawn.

That circle is a road too. Unroll it, and it's longer than either of the others. You haven't been standing still. You've been walking the third road. The only one that leads back here.

Either road will teach you something. And even the wrong one can be left again. Not deciding is the only choice you can't correct, because you never notice that you made it. Which step have you already taken a thousand times in your head?