Profound Statement #13

**Note: I’ve made a number of profound statements before, and I really don’t remember what number I should be on right now, but 13 is special to me, so it’s as good as any number to start a count. I’ll fill in the blacks as I so please, so try not to be too annoyed (I’ve done enough anal retention for all of us… no need for your anal input).

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One of my MSN contact’s personal message is “The Narrow Road… hard to find, harder to stay on.” My response (not verbatim):

The trick about the “narrow road” is that sometimes it’s within the wide road… like a single row of small bricks paved down the center of a long dirt patch. Betcha didn’t know that…

I had always grown up with the very vivid images of the narrow vs wide roads. The narrow road was up against a winding mountain side. Rocks often fell from above, and the journey was perilous… so that road remained empty, except for me. I don’t know where the term “straight and narrow” came from, but this was obviously later in my childhood, after this image was permanently etched.

The wide road was more like a session… nuff people did deh deh. Couldn’t see an end to it, not because it wound itself around a corner, but because it jus kept on going. Everyone who was anyone was there. I often saw my classmates there, some stragglers were sitting on the side, some adults I knew were walking and trying to find their way through the crowd of time wasters. There was a large gate, manned by St. Peter wid a gold chain, and you had to pay admission. Most people there didn’t seem to be going anywhere… like they couldn’t find north, so they kinda jus walked in circles. Some stayed in packs, but even the ones walking alone were concerned about onlookers and judgement. Off in the distant horizon, I think I saw Oz.

The roads were separated by a link wire fence, and the distinction was clear.

But after 22 years, one glimpse at a personal message under a screen name and that ficticious image of a clear narrow vs wide road just went *poof*. There is no “narrow” road on the side of a hill wid boulders falling on my head.

The narrow road is the one that I walk despite the fact that I’m surrounded by wide-road walkers. In fact, it’s those other road walkers that have made my road narrow. If I walked with them, there wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s like Hansel & Gretel. I think in my previous life, I left a trail of stones for myself. And everyone else trampled the stones in search of their own way… and all it did was inlay my stones and buff them to a shine.

They’re still stompling and trooping about… in circles and craziness… I’m still following my trail, and walking the narrow.

“Go placidly amid the noise and haste…” (-Desiderata)