Epictetus Opened Letter

Dear Epictetus,

I have read the poem, The Road not Taken by Robert Frost on my own. I had to do some close reading on my own in order to notice the key elements, though I have to admit that it is a very tricky poem and probably I fell into the trap.

Robert writes about choosing a path but not being satisfied with it and later wondering about how the other is. But isn’t this a little bit obvious?
If you have to choose one of very similar choices you look at the strengths and the weaknesses of both, and yet both of them seem pretty good. With this struggle you choose any one of them. As you walk the road, the strengths of the other road begin to appear filling your rational and emotional part of your brain, giving you no space to enjoy and notice the road you are walking.
As you decide that the other road was better, you change. After taking some steps, you are able to compare both of them, because you have the experience of both roads. As you compare, you notice that both roads have pretty much the same strengths, but you find more faults in the one you are walking because you can detect more in what you are seeing, than the ones you were able to safe in your memory.
Then you come to one of these conclusions: 1) You find out that you didn’t live and detect the first road well, because you didn’t investigate it well, so you want to go back. 2) Your find more faults in the second road, because what you are living has an advantage over your memory, so you want to return to the first road.

Finally, it doesn’t matter what you like or dislike or the road you prefer. Your decision is based on the road you choose first. Also, it would be a turning point if you add a second person that takes the road you left out. In this case, you would be playing with pride, jealousy and more curiosity than before.

But then Epictetus, how do we know what we want? What constrains are there to maintain a neutral position?

Thank you for the attention,

SARA