The road not taken

In my first couple of days at Vicar School, I spent quite a lot of time reflecting on a famous Robert Frost poem: 'The Road not taken'

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller, 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 travelled by, and that has made all the difference.

Over the last few years I have found myself thinking about this poem at various times of making decisions (I have also finally realised that what is important to me, and 'right' for me is not necessarily right for someone else. So all of my ramblings are things that I try to live by - but I expect this of nobody else. You will each have your own roads taken and roads not taken. Those 'roads' are the ones that will resonate deeply with your spirit and define your pilgrimage).

At the start of my year of 'pilgrimage', I find myself drawn to this again - before I set off on my 'journey'.

It can be easy recognise what we are looking for in life. But it can be just as important to recognise the things that we do not want. There are some things that I/my family have deliberately stepped away from.

For example.

A few years ago, my family and I moved to Devon. To do so, we were selling our home in the South East. Everybody that we knew told us that we should keep the property and rent it out. We knew that we would be far better off to do so. We would cover the mortgage with rent and the property value would increase. But to us, the road not taken was was to accumulate what we did not need. We did not need two homes. Smaller houses in the South East, in that area, were in short supply. For someone else, it would be a loved family home. A potential buyer needed, deserved and would cherish that home more than we felt we did. It felt wrong to us. Our road not taken involved accumulating what was not essential. It made no financial sense - but to us, it was the right thing to do. It felt, to us, like walking away from capitalism. This was the road that we did not wish to take.

Another example.

This is silly. I know.

I try to never spend more than £12 on any item of clothing. It was £10 until last year, but that was getting really difficult and nobody wants to see me walking around without! My clothing comes from charity shops. Or it comes from online auctions. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, the fashion industry creates huge carbon footprint. Secondly, people throw away perfectly good clothes. So, I may not be fashionable, and I may not get to try my clothes on before buying them - but it is my small, symbolic attempt at redeeming a culture of chucking out perfectly good things. The road that I do not want to take is the one that leads to consumerism.

Lastly, two years ago, our family made a conscious decision to live without owning a car. We have owned cars for 30 years. But could we manage without? It was not financial (though we saved thousands of pounds in our first year) - it was more environmental. However, the main reason that we wanted to do this was to model a different way to our children. We wanted them to see that life could be communal rather than individual. So we share a car with the community. We pay for it when we need it. It does not sit idle in our drive. We walk a lot more. We take the train. It is good for the environment and the society. Our road is often a car park of traffic slowly working its way into the city. Our road not taken was to make sure that we were not adding to that noise and pollution.

So, as I begin my year of pilgrimage in 2022, I think again: What is the road taken (or not taken) this coming year? The things that I have mentioned above are small things. In the immortal scheme of things, they will make no difference. However, they make a difference to me. They define my 'journey'. This year, I will choose to walk away from other things - and it may be the roads that we do not take which will define much of who we are and where our pilgrimage may take us.

As we stand at the doorway to a new year,

we begin our journey and our pilgrimage;

may we find our own roads to be taken,

and our own roads that are not to be taken.

May they enrich us,

challenge us,

inspire us

and make us more fully aware of who we are,

and what is really important in our pilgrimage.

Let it be so.