The other day, as I was walking along the lane, minding my own business, I stumbled upon a piece of cutlery–  a fork to be exact. It was in terrible shape, clearly run over by multiple vehicles, and caked with dirt and grime.

Nasty!

This is the thing about forks in the road– they’re often not at all what you hoped for. 

So, you might be wondering… He finds a fork in the road; does he take the nasty old thing? Why would he? 

Because, for God’s sake, haven’t we all learned from Yogi Berra, that when you find a fork in the road, you take it? So, I took it.

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do with this grimy old fork. But it was there, so I picked it up, pocketed it, and here I am today, writing a story about it.

It’s a romantic notion to weave through the zigs and zags of life, instinctively making the right choices. Each fork that’s meant to be taken, is the one you take, right?

Bullshit!  Many, perhaps most, forks you find in the road are just nasty pieces of cheap aluminum. How’s that for unromantic? We inevitably pick up certain forks, quickly identify them as nasty, but still continue down the path.

And the longer we continue down those paths, the harder it is to turn back.

Sharp Turn Ahead

The ol’ sunk cost fallacy. The idea that we tend to continue with something we've invested time, money, or effort into—even if the current costs outweigh the benefits.

The Third Fork

Back to Yogi Berra and the fork in the road… So we take it. We get that. Yogi is a sage, but he never tells us what we’re supposed to do after we take the fork. Almost nobody does. 

It's the story of the fork after the fork, after the fork. What do you do when your business isn’t working, or you have to fire a key employee, or you need to quit your job, or leave the self-proclaimed love of your life, or heaven forbid, start rooting for the Yankees instead of the Mets (Please, don’t!). 

If you manage to gather the courage to toss those bad forks back, at first, it feels like defeat. And then, perhaps a bit of abandonment sets in (identifying the abandoned versus the abandoner is up for debate). 

If you’re lucky, after the inner dialogue of abandoning the dream and grieving what’s sunk and cannot be recovered relents, you may be able to move beyond mere calculation. 

This is where you come to the third fork, waiting to be picked up off the grimy, trodden ground. 

That fork is called moving on. It’s a shiny, clean, and beckoning. What would Yogi say? Take it.

© Ray Brimble and stringtheorybyraybrimble.com, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ray Brimble and stringtheorybyraybrimble.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.