artwork & content Copyright 2008 Jean Burman
The road less travelled (nor taken) has been much talked about. But what exactly is it? And where does it lead? Who exactly takes this road… and perhaps more importantly… who doesn’t… and why?
When Robert Frost penned “The Road Not Taken” he could not have known how much interest and speculation his poem would elicit. Although written in the first person as though referring to himself… the poem was actually inspired by his friend and walking companion Edward Thomas. Whilst walking together in the woods… Thomas would often fret about which path to take… and once having committed to the one… still wondered where the other might have led.
Aren’t we all just a little bit like Edward Thomas? ~grin~
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN – 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 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.
Whilst popular opinion reads “non-conformity” and aspirations of “forging one’s own path” into Frost’s words… Frost himself described the poem as “tricky”.
And it’s tricky all right!
In the first verse he sizes up both paths.
In the second verse he voices indecision… and acknowledges confusion (whilst one path is grassier… both appear to have about the same amount of wear)
In the third verse he chooses the path (despite both paths appearing equal)… and acknowledges regret that he would never know the other path.
In the fourth verse he speculates (into the future) about his choice… and how having chosen the path he did… it would make all the difference.
Despite the insertion of a sigh (which could be a sigh of relief or regret) he gives no hint if that difference would be good or bad. But let’s face it… even he could not know that yet. I guess it is at this juncture… more of a hopeful thought… or a wish.
This got me thinking:
Maybe the road less taken… was “less taken” for a reason? Afterall… many a headstrong bloody-minded decision was taken in the name of striking out on the independent path… sometimes in the wrong direction!
Funny how people only ever think about the other road… (and what might have been) when they are bored lost or disenchanted with the road they are on. Otherwise they rarely give it a second thought! LOL
Would things have really been much different over on that other road anyway? They would afterall… have still been themselves… albeit having been influenced and shaped by a different set of circumstances and experiences. But who’s to say they wouldn’t have reverted to type anyway… and fallen into the predictable way?
In reality I would venture to say… the road less travelled doesn’t exist. Truth is there are many many roads… as many roads as there are people out there travelling on them!
There are roads for those who would choose to fall into line along a well trodden trajectory… seeking safety in numbers… and comfort in knowing ahead of time the general direction their life will take. And there are roads for those for which this would never do!
We are each of us on our own road… and it’s a road of our own choosing… whether we care to admit it or not! It’s an undeniable fact that at some point along the road to “here”… we chose this way… and there is now no going back!
But who would want to go back? True… we may never learn what lay along the path not taken… but who really cares? Nothing is set in concrete… least of all our life’s journey!
Tomorrow is another path… a new direction… new and better choices… and different opportunities. Whichever road we are on… (and no matter where we are along it)… there will always be another fork in the road… and we should never ever lose sight of it… nor miss the opportunity to take it!
The short and the long of it is… we don’t always get what we want… but we do seem to get what we need!
artwork & content Copyright Jean Burman 2008
cartoon – pen & watercolour 9″ x 12″
This thought (and the resultant irreverent cartoon) occurred to me out of the blue on my evening walk late yesterday as I “fell in” along the path behind a couple of women whose differences struck me as being uncharacteristically comical!
Please don’t get me wrong… I am not meaning to be unkind! But following along behind the pair at a cracking pace… it struck me that these two women… (one top heavy and the other one… well… you know… kinda the other way round… ~grin~) were more than probably chasing the same impossible ideal! The insolent thought flashed through my mind… ‘now if only it were possible for them to swap upper torsos…’ but mercifully the thought flashed out again before my subconscious reproof could find it’s voice… (and I’m eternally grateful for that ~grin~)
But it just didn’t seem fair! And it didn’t seem right either that in all probability… it wouldn’t have mattered how much exercise the two were to do… the outcome would more than likely still be the same. The facts are… we are each of us stamped with the maker’s mark and try as we might… we simply can’t change the way we’re made!
We had passed the 2.5 kilometre mark… (me bringing up the rear with not an icecube’s hope in hell of passing them) by the time I decided… ever the artist and interested people watcher… that it was way more interesting [anyway] to be back here listening out of earshot… to the lovely lilt of muffled conversation and watching from my unusual vantage point ~grin~ the animated gestures of these two good friends.
I had decided by now that they were in fact good friends… the easy flow of barely audible conversation bubbled over between them in such a joyful and infectious way!
By the 3 kilometre mark we had really hit our stride… and it was right about then that I had the epiphany. This walk had nothing whatsoever to do with the mere shape of a body… or the physical differences between the two… (or even getting fit for that matter).
But it had everything to do with what most of us have in some measure (and hopefully don’t take too much for granted)… the camaraderie of friendship and time spent talking and laughing together… and the sense of “belonging” that having good friends brings.
These two were champions at it! And that’s got to be better than being “a perfect 6″ any old day of the week don’t you think?
artwork & content Copyright Jean Burman 2007
What a funny thing language is! In a world where over 6800 languages are spoken across 200 different countries… you would expect there to be a whole lot of c-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-i-n-g going on… (and you would be right!)
But not so in the 46 or so English speaking countries of the world where it would seem that our language is the only glue that sticks us all together… but understanding each other has become “a challenge” at one end of the spectrum… and a “unique” and “virtually incomprehensible” artform at the other!
Take for instance… the example of the hapless aussie huddled in a phone booth late at night somewhere (read ~lost~) in downtown Edinburgh Scotland. As the rain thunders down he huddles closer to make the call that would surely save he and the family from a cold night on the street… the street that they had driven up and down and round and round at least a dozen or so times that night. He places the call to the hotel while “the fam” waits in the car.
“Hello? hello? Oh g’day… can y’ hear me?” he bellows down the phone.
Yes… yes… “we hear you” groans the fam… and so can everyone else within spitting distance of the proverbial black stump!
“Yeah yeah we got a booking but we don’t know where t’ go. Yep yep… yep… eh?”
O-oh this was not going well.
“… beg yours? … yep… okay… eh?… errr… beg yours?… repeat that if yer can… slower this time… ehhhh?”
*sigh* Thought to self… “if he says ‘beg yours’ one more time I’m gonna get out of this car and whack him repeatedly over the head with this rather large pile of street maps” I mean… what does that mean? Precisely… it means nothing!
It was at this point that this aussie decided he would never be able to communicate with the Scots despite the commonality of our language and heritage (consequently… I handled it from there!)
As for me… I like to think of my accent as being somewhat “international” (ahem) having been mistaken for someone else in 33 languages! The Americans thought I was English, the Irish thought I was American, the French thought I was German (despite the distinctly “strine” twang in my schoolgirl French), the English thought I was one of those “dreadful savages” from South Africa (but that’s another story ~grin~) and the Scots just thought I was more than a little bit queer… (in the straight sense of the word tho) *wink*
But fortunately for we hapless aussies (stumbling around dropping consonants and flattening vowels)… wherever we went we were (once our nationality had been established) welcomed with open arms. The French and the Irish (having at least one thing in common) were grateful we weren’t English… and the Irish were grateful we weren’t American! Sheesh… never before had I ever been so totally accepted by default! LOL
This week I watched a rather fascinating documentary “The Sounds of Aus” which took a perilously close look at the quirks and peculiarities of the aussie accent. Apparently… we have the most difficult accent of all to emulate… our “unique” flat sound resonating from a somewhat lazy soft palate! hmmmm…. that’s definitely something to keep in mind… ~grin~
Anyway… the upshot of it all seems to be that over the 200 or so years of our short tenure here on this continent we have collectively
“shed the cultural cringe that made the “received pronunciation” of the English upper class a kind of linguistic role model”
Strewth… that’s a relief…
and “nor is the Ocker accent as important as it once was in defining our national voice – fewer of us speak like Hoges or Steve Irwin”
Crikey… it’s about time… I was getting kinda sick of jumping crocs and simply haven’t got the strength to toss one more shrimp on the barbie… *sigh*
And while the aussie accent has become deregulated and is open to an unprecedented array of influences from across the globe
‘it is unlikely that exposure to American culture or other global forces will diminish what makes it distinctive.’
Heysup dude… we’s got our own crib! *wink* LOL
So it seems… we aussies can breathe a sigh of relief that our language (along with the economy) not only remains intact… but has come into it’s own!
But that doesn’t mean we will have to stop speaking Queenslandish does it? (Man… what planet are we on?)
Ahhhh… Queensland… beautiful one day… perfect the next… where a bludger’s a bloke who gets to pike out on his shout because the hole in the wall didn’t work… and he’s packing it because the rellies have packed their togs and are bringing a port from the big smoke in brissie this arvo… and he looks like a dag in his stubbies and thongs after a day sinking tinnies with his mates, doing doughnuts in his ute, and chucking U-ees in the street… sussing out the new wheels and taking a squizz under the bonnet… before going to the footy and crashing at the mate’s.
Yep… clear as mud…
But y’know… she’ll be right mate! 
