Two Paths
a parable
Two Paths
The two roads diverged in a yellow wood…
—Robert Frost
In my village, every young man encounters two paths when they come of age. The two paths are as follows: enter the forest or enter the plains. Once you enter one of those places, you may not return, until you have completed the task. While we all have undergone the task, none knows what the task is.
Early in the morning the boy arose from sleep and walked outside to meet the elders. The elders, there were three of them, stood in a semi-circle before him and said, “The time has come. You must choose your path.” The young boy told them, “I want to go into the forest.”
He walked to the edge of the forest where the expanse of his village met the green wall of trees of all shapes and sizes. The forest bristled and vibrated with tall trees that shook in the early wind. The rustle of the leaves sounded like cranky cicadas who’ve been asleep for far too long. The boy looked at the spaces where the trees parted and started forward. In the forest, he saw an anaconda and a parrot and also a jaguar. Each time he saw an animal he said, “I am man from the village outside of this forest. I have come to be tested.” And each time the creatures replied, “I have no test for you.” The boy wandered around for days and nights asking all of the animals to give him some kind of test. There was no test to be discovered. He despaired for he knew that his journey into the forest would be a test to see if he had achieved his manhood. He began to worry: “What if I have missed something? Was that tree trunk back their covered in letters? What about the anaconda — that is a fearsome beast. I must’ve missed something!” As he worried, he became aware of another fact: “What if the choice is the test? What if I was supposed to enter the plains instead of the forest? And the elders know that the forest is deep and dark and that all those who enter it by choice are bound to get lost. And they do not want people who make such foolish decisions.” At this realization and its logic, he truly despaired. He threw himself onto the ground and closed his eyes. This was certainly the end.
As he lay in the cool green grass drifting like a fallen leaf, he floated down into the depths and became conscious that he was floating. He exclaimed, but still he floated downwards into the middle of another forest — this one far more misty. He stood up and began to walk around trying to ascertain where he was. Slowly and with trepidation he began to become more frantic. He started to run throughout the forest, and he kept smacking his face into low hanging branches. Finally, he bent over his knees panting and stopped.
He felt his skin and then his heart. He felt his toes in his sandals and also the strands of hair that were cast across his forehead. He got up and looked around and saw that he had come to a kind of mountain in the jungle. It struck him as odd because it jutted out through the trees like some giant’s hammer had been dropped it there. It was much taller than him, and he couldn’t see the top because of the mist. There was no break between the mountain and the trees; it was simply forest, then mountain. He began walking to the side of it looking for caves or a way around it; he thought, “Well, what am I to do? I have no idea where I am, and now I’m trapped in here by this mountain, or maybe it is a wall.” There was nothing he could see to explain this mountain to him. Then, he thought, “I’ll climb a tree and see to the other side of it. That’ll help me.” With renewed vigor he found the nearest tree and climbed to the top. When the sun and breeze finally found the peach fuzz on his chin, he was spent and felt like he’d been stabbed in the legs and stomach by a hundred stitching needles. All that he could see were the green-tufts of trees; for as far as he could see, there were only rounded treetops bleeding together. He returned down the tree’s knotted trunk despairing and cried out in a loud voice, “I have nowhere to go. I have nowhere to go. I am unworthy!” He then lay down in the cool grass and wished that the earth would swallow him up in the grave that would not claim him for many years to come.
A stag approached his limp form and nuzzled his face. When he looked up at it, he jumped and scooted backwards, scaring the stag away. Then, he arose and began to walk forward not knowing where he was going. He walked for the rest of the day when he came to a clearing and saw the elders standing before him. He stood speechless and afraid before them. He cried, “Fathers, I’m sorry I’ve wandered so long but have found nothing.” He bowed his head and lay prostrate upon the ground.
They looked at him and said, “Son, you have been gone not three hours, yet your fear drove you for forty days and forty nights through the jungle. Yes, you have failed, but you have also returned to us knowing you failed. Arise and worry no more. Faith is the antidote to fear. Those that go into the forest must learn faith.”
The elders continued, “You have made your choice. You choose to go into the forest, and so you did. That choice could have led to death. but it led to life. Now. you are here, so live.”
The young boy returned to his home and slept soundly. When he arose, he went out into the village that was his own, and worked heartily for his family and his people to the end of his days.