The Path

The right path.  We admonish children to stay on it.  We all try to keep to the straight and narrow.

Have you ever stopped to think about what that analogy really means?

Picture yourself walking through a strange forest.   You were warned before entering the forest that you must at all times, stay on the path, or else.  Nobody spelled out specifically what the “or else” was, but it must be bad from the way eyebrows would be arched while the warning was issued.  All around you is darkness and mystery.  The path, while narrow, is well defined and made of hard packed sand, so it seems easy to follow.  The path appears very straight and you can actually see from the distant gap in the trees ahead where the forest ends.  As you walk along, the forest is alive with sounds and movement that cause your eyes to stray from the path even though you continue to follow it faithfully.  Some of the sounds are strange, but others are songbirds calling to each other and you find them pleasant company on your walk.

As you continue, you find yourself more and more distracted and it isn’t long before you feel the ground beneath your feet becoming rough and irregular.  You stop and look down to find that you have drifted off to the edge of the path.  Admonishing yourself, you move back to the middle of the path and resolve to ignore the distractions and remain centered where the walking is easier lest you leave the path entirely and find out what the dreaded “or else” is.

Continuing along the path, you try to ignore the forest around you and focus on the path.  Before long, you begin thinking about what happened to you when you strayed to the edge of the path.  It was rougher on your feet, but there were flowers there and being that close, you could smell their intoxicating aroma.  You pause to examine the trailside flowers more closely.  Enjoying the aroma, you are so focused on sampling all of the varieties, that you hardly notice the turf beneath your feet as it becomes marginally less stable the further from the path you stray.  Eventually, you notice that you are completely off the path and blushing, you return to the middle of the path more determined than ever to stay focused on your destination.

You are startled at how easily you were distracted and a shiver runs through you as you realize you might have fallen victim to the dreaded “or else” lurking in the dense forest around you.  Pondering this, you begin to wonder about the nature of this “or else” that everyone is so afraid of.  The sounds of birds in the forest are pleasant and the flowers smell so good.  There really was no harm in it, and the trail is always close by if danger suddenly appeared.

These thoughts are still floating around in your mind when a deer leaps across the path in front of you and disappears into the brush.  Without even thinking about it, you jog a few feet forward to see where the bushes have been brushed aside for that beautiful creature.  You think you see movement, but everything is dark in the direction the deer headed.  You are so focused on spotting the deer, that you do not notice your feet crossing the rough stones at the edge of the trail.  The smell of the flowers being crushed beneath your feet also fails to register in your consciousness.   What brings you back to reality is the branch that scratches your arm as you push though into the forest.  

Suddenly you stop.  For a panicked moment, you look around for the “or else”.  Afraid to make a sound, you stand at the edge of the brush.  The path is behind you, but still easily reached unless the “or else” gets you first.  The ease with which you left the trail this third time fails to register with you.  After contemplating it a moment, you realize that nothing has attacked you yet.  You look around and see faint signs in the brush indicating that the deer had turned so that it was now almost parallel to the path behind you and going in the same general direction as your travel.

Now your senses are flooded by the singing birds, pleasant smells and the recollection of how beautiful it was to see that deer leaping in front of you.  You decide to follow the deer for just a bit and keep the path in sight in case you need to get back to it in a hurry.  You absentmindedly rub the scratch on your arm caused by the branch as you smile at the thought that no harm has come to you by leaving the path.

For a long time, you keep looking back to the path to make sure it is still within reach.  It is getting a bit further from you all the time, but the distance is increasing more slowly than your comfort level at being off the path.  As you go along, the trace left by the deer becomes so faint that it is requiring more and more of your attention.  Besides, there are so many strange sights and sounds here in the forest.  People were so silly to warn you about the “or else”.  They may even have been trying to keep the mystery of the forest all to themselves.  There doesn’t seem to be anything scary or dangerous here at all.

As daylight begins to fade into the twilight of evening, you realize you have given up on following the deer.  You have just been enjoying this new experience.  Realizing that night will soon be here, you turn to where the path should be.  It is no longer there.  In fact, you are no longer sure which direction you should head to find the path.   If that wasn’t enough, the beautiful music of the birds has been replaced with creepy, scary sounds.  The smell of flowers has gradually been replaced by the damp odor of decay wafting from the forest floor.  The wonderful sight of the deer has been replaced by shadows flitting from tree to tree around you…

Do not expect the master of lies to be a wicked looking man with horns and a pitchfork.  Who would be misled by such a scary persona? We would all flee in fright.  As the master of lies, he is well aware of the value of looking helpful and friendly.  Similarly his initial goal is not to urge you to turn ninety or a hundred and eighty degrees from “the path”.  That would be a tough sell, since we all know better than to follow advice like that.  Instead, the master of lies and his minions urge us toward the edge of the path.  When we are comfortable with that, they have an attractive distraction for us just a half a step off the path, but still well within the reach of safety and besides, we can clearly see that far and there is no danger there.  None that we can see.  The danger is not in that first step off the path.  The danger is what that step can lead to.

That first step from the path is the hardest.  It is difficult for you, and it is difficult for the master of lies.  After that it not only gets easier, but actually begins to seem normal.  From time to time, you may catch yourself and return to the path promising yourself never again to stray.  Each time, you will find yourself straying a bit further.  The biggest danger is not the first step, but how easy that first step makes the second.