Why I Sometimes Choose the Hard Way

I like to take the easy way as much as anyone else. Why wouldn’t I? But sometimes I take the difficult path on purpose. Here are some examples:

• Taking a one-hour yoga class twice a week because it would be too embarrassing to quit (and leave) when I’m tired or struggling to nail that plank.

• Getting on social media and telling everyone I’m going to self-publish a book. I can’t walk that one back, nor do I want to.

• Hiking the long route, knowing there’s only one way back to the car. I have to finish the journey. At some point, I’m past the point where turning around makes sense. I can’t give up just because I’m tired. Breaks are optional, quitting is not. I gotta keep going.

Recently, I went on a hike that left my glutes aching for a few days. The trees were beginning to sprout a color of green only found at spring’s dawning. The redbuds and dogwoods were glorious, and I traipsed past wild violets in hues of white, yellow and purple. The trail was hilly, rugged and muddy, with fallen trees everywhere from storms both recent and long past. At one point, I came across a fork in the trail where a metal sign had been tacked to a tree. The post gave hikers and mountain bikers two options for proceeding: easiest and most difficult (see photo above). 

I didn’t hesitate. I took the most-difficult route. I’d been that way before, but every hike is different depending on the time of year and changing trail conditions. I came across water burbling from a rock in the middle of the trail, cascading down a stair-step of stones. I found more beautiful flora. I lingered at a peaceful stream with mini waterfalls (see below). 

The hard way threw me a few curveballs. Moving forward required skirting stretches of trail squishy with mud. At one point, I had to climb over a massive tree that fell across the path (see below). The trail was advertised as three miles, but was actually almost four miles. The reality is, plans never go as expected. My mindset needed to be flexible, knowing that my expectations could be different from reality, and I simply had to adapt and hang in there. 

When I finally arrived at my car, it was the only one left in the gravel lot. The sun was ebbing into golden hour. I was tired, but I felt glorious. There’s nothing better than accomplishing what you set out to do, especially when you’ve had to work for it. 

Turns out, the most-difficult route was worth the effort. I saw and experienced things I would have missed had I taken the easy route. It felt damn good to persevere and finish what I started. I guess that’s what Robert Frost meant about two roads, diverged in wood, and taking the one less traveled. And it making all the difference.

Life doesn’t always give you a choice about which path you can take. Quite often, the difficult route is the only way. Self-publishing my debut novel is indeed a difficult path. Every aspect of the publication process is mine to control and accomplish. I’m having to learn as I go and work extra hard to make sure the book I’m offering is indistinguishable from a traditionally published novel. But in the end, it will be me who ensures my dream comes true. And that’s pretty spectacular. 

What I’ve come to learn through my author journey is not to be afraid of the difficult route. You never know what beautiful things you’ll find along the way. The extra effort is worth it. Getting to the end will be incredibly fulfilling.