The Road Less Traveled

I mostly make my bed in the morning. But not always. I don’t stress over it if it doesn’t happen. Recently though, I read something about Robert Frost that makes me want to make my bed every day. You know Robert Frost. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,  And that has made all the difference.” That Robert Frost. Evidently, he started his day by making his bed, and while doing so, he would make up his mind how he wanted his day to go. I love this. It’s a great little meditative exercise. Perhaps reflecting on Robert Frost’s entire poem is a great place to start our day today:

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.

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