Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there’s a mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Anyone who has gone through high school certainly knows of Robert Frost. (Frost? It’s funny this poem is about snow.) In those days, alongside his counterparts, I regarded Robert Frost as a sadist sent to traumatize students studying poetry. Today, when I look back, I see him more in a light of veneration than with a sigh of desperation. The Road Not Taken remains to be my favorite verse, and I bet it is as well for so many others. Whats yours best poem? Who is your best poet?

At one time, I was reading an essay addressing the interpretation of poems. The insistence was that poetry is not really important for its intellectual edge as it is for its ability to appeal to the senses. Poetry is first of all meant to be enjoyed before it can be understood. Comprehend the sound before you construe the meaning. I agree. In my high school times the aim was to get what the poem means. There was always the question, what is the poem about? I am sure I got that question right on less than two occasions. My interpretation of any poem was always so wrong, glaringly and embarrassingly wrong. I have since, however, begun to enjoy poems for their sounds, rhymes, and melodies, and then in some kind of epiphany, the meaning has poured itself out. ( Wait, my intention is not to be cheeky, but can you still give the rhyme scheme of the poem?)

I am not confident in my skills when it comes to dissecting poems for their meanings, but today, I will share with you what I understood from this poem.

Robert Frost (assuming he is the persona) seems to be in a journey, to whence we cannot tell, but then he stops on his way there to look into the woods. To him these woods with all the snow is something beautiful to look upon. It is as if he wants to stand and watch the woods filling with snow for as long as he could, but he remembers that he has a journey ahead of him. He has responsibilities to live up to and promises to keep. And because of that he has to go on with his journey. Beautiful right?

This poem has typified my life in so many instances, it may have yours as well. For most of us, we are in a journey, some will call it destiny, some see it as a purpose we have to fulfill. For several people we have goals we look forward to actualizing, may be it is to turn back the tide of lack and poverty in our families, may be it is to alleviate the suffering of people in the world. But in the end, we are pressing forward to do something. Yet on the way there, there would be distractions, there would be things that would nag us to forsake the rightful path, probably for the sake of expedience. The journey during such instances seems to be a long one, and it can always wait, can’t it?

Yet the consciousness of responsibility causes the persona (goodness! It feels as though I am in my high school regalia) to get back to his journey. In my article, What am I here for?, I said that for nearly all of us, our aim is to be successful, to be at the top someday if that is what matters to us. However, we cannot take the same path there, our paths are different, and for some of us we cannot bear to compromise, life has simply not made that provision for us. That’s why comparing ourselves to others becomes so destructive. What promises do I have to keep? What responsibilities await me? The answers to these questions are not the same. There are people who can stand back as long as they are want, and watch the woods fill with snow. There are others, and many they are, who have to keep going, focusing on the prize ahead of them. It’s the consciousness of what is demanded of them that galvanizes them to action.

What motivates people to work towards their goals and for the betterment of their lives and society, is very peculiar and personal, we do not share destinies after all. The question then becomes what price do I have to pay personally? Once we know the price we have to pay, we will understand and see it as our own burden to carry. We cannot then afford to blame anyone, we cannot point fingers when we fail to deliver. Reaching that destiny will certainly require discipline, and sacrifice. Yet we are not to expect other people to be disciplined in that same way. They may be on a whole different path altogether, and the sacrifices that they may be making or may have to make doesn’t have to resemble the ones we are making. That’s why it is unreasonable to expect others to make the same trade offs we are making, and immature to get resentful because they aren’t sacrificing as much as we are. Yes, it’s all about trade offs. We give something up to have something else, and in this case we give up watching the woods so that we can be fast and on time when it comes to our responsibilities.

In the parting shot of his book, 12 Rules for Life, Jordan Peterson, answers the question: what shall I do with my newly found pen of light? He clarifies on what exactly everyone should aim to do with the knowledge they have now acquired. He says, ‘our specific personal faults detrimentally affect the world, our conscious, voluntary sins make things worse than they have to be. Failure to make the proper sacrifices […] weakens us― and in that weakened state we are unable to thrive in the world, being of no benefit to ourselves and to others.’ Robert Greene in Laws of Human Nature puts it more candidly when he says, ‘we are here not merely to gratify our impulses and consume what others have made, but to make and contribute as well, to serve a higher purpose.

One time when we were sharing some words with my roommate Njoroge Maina, he explained what drives his commitment to his academics. It made a lot of sense. In the Holy Scriptures, the commandment is that whatever we do, we must do it diligently and faithfully as unto the Lord, without grumbling or complaining. At the end of time we answer to an audience of one. Were we faithful in what had been given to us? because the Master will soon come to settle accounts. Njoroge said that he sees his academic work as divine, a task appointed by God, so that even when tired and weary, he has a reason to rouse himself from sleep and get to work, he serves a purpose higher than himself. In The River and The Source by Margaret Ogola, Mary-Anne explains to Vera that she can serve God in her work, by allowing her Faith in God to permeate her entire life, and to define her work. Mary-Anne exhorts her to do her work, whatever it is, lectures or assignments, well, offering it to God. When we know that we answer to God concerning our work and not man, not even ourselves, the whole perspective of it changes. We cannot do it shoddily anymore. There’s no work in Sheol, where we are going, so whatever our hands find to do, we must do it well.

What are your responsibilities? What is your purpose? What are you meant to give to the world?

Yes, the woods are beautiful, but we have promises to keep.

And miles to go before we sleep.

And miles to go before we sleep.