I do something weird when I’m hiking, and I have no clue why. You know how we’re all supposed to walk on the right side of the trail, just like when we’re driving, we stay to the right. I don’t know who made that rule, but it seems to be widely accepted as good path etiquette. (Is it different in England? Do they hike on the left side of the path?)

Anyway, about a year ago, I discovered that I have a tendency to drift left, especially when I’m jamming to my Ipod and not paying attention. On most of the trails I hike, I never see another person the entire time I’m hiking, so it’s not like I’m bumping into people willy nilly. But I do find myself veering left. It’s weird.

In the beginning, I didn’t think much of it. I’d get off course, notice, and then steer right. But recently, I’ve started to wonder more about it. Why is it that I can’t stay to the right, like normal people? Is it political? Am I just so sick of Bush that my body is making a statement about my political bent, in light of this momentous Obama inauguration? Maybe that’s it, or maybe my body is just sick and tired of following rules. Maybe it’s rebelling, thumbing its nose to silly truisms and unnecessary regulations, much the way my three- year old Siena does when she’s trying out her newfound defiant stance. For months, I’ve been fighting the urge to steer left, forcing myself to rechart my course and conform. But lately, it occurred to me that this is sheer ridiculousness. If my legs want to veer left and no one's around, why shouldn’t they? So recently, I’ve been giving in to my urge of nonconformity, letting my legs do what they will on these deserted paths on which I walk. It feels good, like I’m seventeen and staying out past curfew or letting a boy’s hand slip under my blouse. It feels freeing, to blatantly and obviously defy convention and walk on the left side of the path.

Every now and then, I see someone approaching me, and I’m tempted to keep on walking- to go face to face with someone, chicken- fight style, and see who will cave in first. But as they get closer, and we’re facing each other, eye to eye, I always back down. I can’t quite bring myself to take a stand about something as trivial as which side of the path I walk on. Plus, I want to be polite.

All of this has been well and good, until recently, when I started my new job in the San Francisco Bay area, a community much more populated than Monterey, where I’ve spent almost two years hiking in near solitude. All of the sudden, I’m walking on a hiking trail in Muir Woods along with several dozen locals meandering about and several dozen more foreigners speaking European languages and marveling at the redwoods that so inspired John Muir. All of the sudden, the left side of my hiking trail is bustling with tourists and other tree-hugging redwood lovers. And I don’t know what to do! Should I suck it up and steer right, like all the other law-abiding tree worshippers are doing, or should I take a stand for independence, for self-expression? I’m torn. On one level, there’s no law saying I can’t walk on the left side of the path, but if I do, am I just one of those in-your-face assholes that make you crazy when you’re just trying to live your life? Or am I standing for something bigger, for Owning who you are, even if it means pissing people off? Is it a matter of principle, or is it just common courtesy to yield?

Today, I yielded. After all, I’m new here. I don’t want to make enemies before I even make friends. But I’m not backing down easily. I’m just letting others be the alpha dog right now, until I figure out more clearly what I stand for, whether my tendency to veer left is crucial to my integrity, and whether I can be who I am and still be polite by giving in to convention. It’s a question we all struggle with, isn’t it? Don’t we all bend in order to fit in? Don’t we all fight our natural inclinations at times, just so we don’t upset anyone?

I figure I’m new in town, so I better yield for a while, but I doubt it will last long. Probably, a year from now, I’ll be out there on the bayside path in Sausalito, walking left. Probably, someone will give me the finger and someone else will point to the “Be Courteous” sign that reminds us to clean up after our pets and beware of rollerbladers, bikers, and children. I guess I’ll have to play it by ear, balancing my inclination to conform with my desire to jump out of the pack and assert my independence. It makes me think of my favorite Far Side cartoon, where, among a sea of identical-looking penguins, one jumps out of the crowd, screaming, “I gotta be me! I just gotta be me!”

That’s me. Struggling to jump out of the crowd, but still longing to fit in. What do you do when you have to decide how to navigate your path??

Respecting forks in the road,
Lissa