It's Not Always the Best Idea to Take the Freeway
by the Editor
Lots of stuff in this issue, contributors had a lot to say about Roads Taken and Not. Unsurprisingly, the emphasis is on knowing what your own road is and then taking it no matter what. And why is that so hard to do, I wonder?
Looking at myself (which is just about the only sample I can take with any confidence), I would have to say it's hard because it's hard to know what your own road is. You're born, and then about a hundred different special interest groups (including a bunch that have your special interests at heart) start putting up signs. "This way," your mother says. "No, this way," your favorite teacher says. "No, THIS way," your favorite rock star says. And then there are all the special interest groups that most certainly only have their own special interests at heart, and not yours at all. "This way–spend money over here." "This way–let us invent an ailment for you to identify yourself by, and then let us charge you a lot to 'cure' it." "No, THIS way–put on a headscarf." "Forget that–scorn people who wear headscarves." "No, don't get involved in the world around you, leave that to experts." "Whatever you do, make money."
Or similar.
It's hard to know your own road, but it's certainly not impossible. How could it be; your own road is encrypted in your own body, sure as the fate that it truly is. And if you listen, hard, to your own body, you'll find out what that road is. Listen to your dreams. Listen to the idle thoughts that waft through her head at the oddest moments. Listen to your likes, your dislikes. Listen when your body tells you someone's trying to rip you off, even though your brain, which is gifted with an often useful override switch, tells you that can't be so. Your body knows. It really does.
For all of that, you need time. And solitude, at least a little. And the company of honest people, either alive, or dead, but still alive in their words and art.
What you don't need is people jeering at you that such a search is idealistic, undoable, ultimately unprofitable.
So here's one road sign that could be useful in finding your own. If there's a person at a crossroads sneering at whatever dream you have, telling you that you don't have the talent, or the nerve, or any other particular trait needed to journey any farther, and if that person is directing you down another road, I would be very careful about listening to that person, or following her/his road sign. The sneering is the key. Contempt is always a sign that the contemptuous is made nervous by the contemptible. (Hey, it wasn't just me that said it–check out Freud, too.) And people who are scared to follow their own roads frequently substitute discouraging others from following theirs.
Don't let it scare you, is what I'm saying. You'll have enough monsters on your own true road without dealing with other phantoms on some fake freeway leading exactly nowhere. Your own road is going to be way more interesting. And where does your own road lead, do you think? Well…I think it probably leads to yourself.
And if you feel like sharing what you find along the way, send something in to EAP. We're always interested in people who don't take the freeway. Those are the best kind of travel guides we know.
Welcome back.
(And welcome, this issue, to Tanner J. Willbanks . Lovely to have you along for the ride, Tanner.)