Life is a series of decisions. The ways in which we respond to them are what ultimately shape our existences. It is as if we are traversing a finite path with intervals at indeterminable distances from each other, at which place the path splits into myriad directions. The particular path we choose determines everything about who we are, and about who we are becoming.

This is the point when we must heed our instinct as to which way we should proceed, which almost always feels like a complete crapshoot. A moment when we feel our own smallness, and the limited scope of knowledge we have of our entire life trajectories.

But we will make the decision regardless, to the best of our abilities and using the information available to us. Or if we do not, it will be made for us.

And when we find ourselves on that newly forged path, if there is any hope at all for achieving what we set out to, we must attend to that course wholeheartedly. When our little peg advances to the spot where the path splits, and past it—having selected one—we must be of the mindset that the others have altogether ceased to exist. In fact, they will cease to exist, for even if we believe we are returning to one later on, the overall picture will never be exactly as it was. The path will be different or we will. Each decision presents itself upon a singular instance.

There is only, now, the way we have chosen.

It will do no good to half-heartedly walk one way, while constantly looking over your shoulder or to your sides, considering jumping tracks for another. To live this way is to deprive any pursuit of reaching its potential. We must make a decision to wholly invest our bodies, minds, and spirits into every endeavor on which we embark.

We must have single-mindedness of purpose in order for our paths to swell to the point of overflow with every grace and treasure life has to offer. This is to intend. This is to live an intentional life.