Bolt Upright

For the better part of a year, I have been wavering between two paths in front of me. Let’s call them A and B, since I am a slave to alphabetical order in all things.

Path A, while rocky and hilly at times, is well worn. Lots of people follow it and will be around to help you along. It’s fairly predictable, and you can see the end pretty clearly even from the start. It will take a while to get there, but get there you will.

Path B, on the other hand, goes about four steps and then pitch blackness descends. It will definitely also be rocky and hilly, but there could even be some cliffs, serious detours, or a chance of insurmountable walls. It could be longer than Path A, or shorter. It will almost certainly be harder to navigate, as there’s no map, no one can tell you for sure where you will be going, and you won’t have many hiking companions. On the other hand,  it could turn out to be pretty smooth. There’s really no way of knowing.

The destinations you will arrive at are equally wonderful. But – and it’s a big but – Destination B needs you to come – needs everyone, as many people as possible to come – far, far more than Destination A does. (I know, destinations don’t really “need”. I’m stretching the metaphor, ok? Humour me.)

Path A, right? Path A is the obvious choice.

But every time I decide that, and turn away from Path B, something happens to draw me back towards it. Chance meetings. A conversation. A newspaper article. A webpage, posted in error, later withdrawn – but not before I had viewed it.  Signs that only I would see.

My common sense is telling me Path A.

But my heart is telling me Path B.

And I have no idea what to do.