Early in my life’s journey, I came to a fork in the road. One path seemed lonely and steep, while the other seemed wide and easy. I chose the easier path which was purported to be filled with fun, frolicking, and frivolity. It sloped gently downward, at least to begin with, so I thought my legs wouldn’t get too tired. Many wonderful indulgences beckoned and enticed curious travelers along the way.
I stopped at one booth and asked the guy what he was selling, and he said I just needed to try it to understand why everyone was raving about it.
“How much does it cost?” I asked.
“I’ll let you try it for free.” He set a cup in front of me.
Curious, I drank it down. Wow—what a hit! My head swirled, I saw fireworks, and my body felt warm all over—I felt probably the best I had felt in a long time. But the exhilaration passed and left me holding an empty cup. Others around me were shelling out more cash for more of whatever it was. The look on their faces was ecstatic, and deep sighs came from all around.
“Want a little more?” the guy asked with a sly grin, holding up the jug. I said I did, and he said, “Only $5 for another swig.” That didn’t sound so bad, so I handed him a fiver and downed another draught. It felt good but, strangely, not quite as good as the first time.
“Was that the same stuff?” I asked.
He said he was pretty sure it was, but sometimes a batch is a little weaker and sometimes a little stronger. So I said I’d try one more.
“That’ll be $10.”
“What? The first one was $5,” I complained.
“Nope. The first one was free,” he said.
I agreed, but still asked why this one was more expensive.
“If you want to keep doing it, it costs a little more each time.”
“So…five dollars more each time…” I mumbled.
“Not exactly,” he said with another grin. Turning to another customer, he said, “That’ll be $320.” And the chap handed him the money with a grumble but with a lustful gaze firmly set on his new cup. Turning back to me, the bartender said, “The cost doubles for each cup.”
“Why do they keep paying those terrible prices?” I asked, incredulously, though my flesh already knew the answer.
“They keep chasing that first rush. It always feels good, but it is never quite like they remember that first time.”
I almost paid for another but decided to head over to another booth labeled “AFFIRMATIONS.” A beautiful young lady smiling encouragingly at me waved me to her space at the counter.
“Hello, handsome man!” she said, and I believed she meant it. I smiled, bashfully. “Would you like to hear more true affirmations about yourself and your life?” she asked sweetly.
“Yes, I would.”
“It’s not expensive. Just pay us $20 if you’d like to join a group or $100 if you would like private, one-on-one affirmations.” I paid $100, and she led me to an open space in a garden nearby with a bubbling stream and beautiful plants all around. “Have a seat. Get comfortable. Drink some water.”
When I was ready, she began. “You really have it all, you know? You are healthy, strong, and good looking. You are also young, which is the best age. When you speak, I can tell you are wise beyond your years. You must have had great schooling. And the intelligence in your eyes!” She continued along in this vein for some time, and I let her because it felt so good and seemed so genuine. All she said was easy for me to accept because they matched what I generally believed about myself anyway, and it thrilled my heart to have someone confirm my self-worth and awesomeness.
After a while, she changed her tune on a few items. For instance, she started saying, “Your years have brought you great wisdom” and “You are still pretty strong for your age.”
“Wait a second,” I said, “I thought you were complimenting me for my youth just now.”
“Just now I was, Sir, but you have aged quite a bit since we have been affirming you.”
Shocked, I realized I had grown quite old while reveling in her words! How had my life passed so quickly? I saw others around me already bent and wrinkled and some laying down to sleep. “They are just napping,” she assured me, but I saw the stillness of death in their bodies. I could have wasted completely away filled with words about my own importance and greatness, and what would I have had to show for it?
I stumbled back out onto the wide path and saw the way back to the beginning sloped sharply up—not at all the gentle slop I remembered—and many in great panic were attempting to climb back to that beginning fork in the road, but they all slid down, some being crushed in the process. The only way to go was farther down the path. In resignation, I plodded along, hoping to find something good and fulfilling along the way, something to make my life more meaningful, as I realized I had wasted almost all of it chasing thrills and filling my selfish mind with drivel.
But a man on the side of the road was speaking to the passers-by, “There is still hope. You chose the Wrong Path, but I can take you back to the Right Way.” The more I heard him, the more my heart yearned to be saved from this pathway of waste and emptiness. Why was no one else listening to him? Why were the crowds scoffing and ignoring this man? Did they not know how important his message was?
“I want to go,” I said. “Please. How do I get back?”
“I must carry you,” he said.
“I don’t want to burden you. You should not have to pay for my bad decisions.”
“Still, I must carry you because the route to the Right Way is impassable for you. Only I can make it.”
Grieving and ashamed, I said, “What can I pay you, at least?” I told him how much money I had left (though I had wasted a lot on this Wrong Path).
“That is enough. I will take all of it.”
It would cost me everything, but as I thought about my situation, I realized I truly had nothing. I was willing to give up everything to be saved from this. I agreed and handed him the money.
With surprising strength, he lifted me up, and when I was securely sitting astride his shoulders, he began confidently walking straight into the woods along a barely discernable trail. I wish I could tell you all that he endured; I don’t recall everything. At times he walked through patches of briars which ripped and tore his flesh. At times, wolves set upon us snaping, biting, and gnawing. I sat safely out of reach, but he bled from open wounds. Still his foot never wavered. Finally, the woods opened, and he set me down in sunshine.
I wept as I stared at his broken body, fresh wounds, and bleeding flesh. But he smiled, said he loved me, and pointed me in the right direction.
“This Right Way is well-marked; make sure you follow the signs and stay on the road. Don’t turn to the right hand or the left. You will meet others walking this way, too. They will help you, and you should likewise help them to make sure everyone makes it all the way to the destination. You won’t see me again until you reach the end of this path, but I’ll be waiting there.” And he was gone.
All the rubbish on the wide path I gladly leave behind. What a waste it was.
As I remember the man who carried me to safety, my heart burns. I cannot wait to see him again.