Detour

The day flew by for me yesterday, a good thing for sure, before I knew it, it was 1:17 pm and then 4:57 pm. Prior to leaving work I had the good intention of heading to the library and catching up on reading for school that I’ve been putting off, but I stepped outside and suddenly the brisk Big Apple air whisked me in the direction of home. I hopped on the 1 train and to my dismay I got into one of those stuffy cars with no air. I’m normally one to sit and endure said stuffy car just so I can get off right in front of the exit stairs on my stop, but today I just could not bear it especially after taking in such fresh air moments ago. So I set forth on transferring to the A which is such a quicker ride home anyway.

The A train gave me a much better welcome. As I stepped in, it was unusually clear for the afternoon rush hour. I managed to grab a seat a stop later. Already comfortable with the fact that studying would not be on my agenda I began to thumb through my May issue of Self Magazine. [FYI…my norm is to always always begin reading a magazine starting from the back to the front. A habit I am sure I picked up from my mother who does the same]. But this afternoon just to add to my detour-attitude, I began thumbing through from the front where I stumbled upon the Self Expression page only to find an article about a woman going through a transitional phase in her life after losing her job. Something about her story spoke to me as I too am entering a transitional phase.

Before I could finish the article my stop came up. I was so invested on knowing how her story would end that I told myself ‘you will finish this article as soon as you get home’. I had to tell myself this because as we all experience this more times than not, as soon as we get home we get pulled in 10 other directions and what we thought of doing before walking through the door is totally forgotten. So as I began walking home, that brisk Big Apple air hit me once again, this time it would not let me go. I just couldn’t bear the thought of going home straight away. So I took another detour and ended up at the park.

A part of me felt like a rebel fighting against all the rules of going home and being the studious student. It felt a bit odd though, I mean who was I to ignore all the tasks on my to-do list and escape to the park? But the park is what I needed I suppose, to fully and freely welcome my 30 Day Count down to Graduation Day. I decided on sitting near where the kids were playing, hoping their carefree laughs and energy would soak into my skin.

It felt good to sit peacefully in my own space, even if it was on a bench shared with strangers. I would read a paragraph and then take a glance at kids sliding down slides, read another paragraph then glance at the pigeon strutting back and forth in front of me. Upon finishing my reading I started walking home and came to this fork in the path, and It made me think of Robert Frost’s poem, The Road Not Taken. My mind has been drifting to this poem more than usual lately…

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 kept 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.

– Robert Frost

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