They said to Moses, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt? Did you bring us out here in the desert to die? We could have died peacefully in Egypt; there were plenty of graves in Egypt.

-Bible, book of Exodus 14:11

The Sinai Peninsula, Egypt.
Photo by Dr. Walt Foster

The soul oscillates back and forth between two roads, both appealing in their own way.

The first is unrestrained hedonism, a pursuit of what will feel good for me right now with no regard for others or even the future. This road has a spectrum of expressions – from drunken carousing to seemingly benign habits of distraction. It is all the self-indulgent path of the hedonist. And despite what you might think, you don’t have to be high on a beach in Ibiza to follow this road. In fact, most hedonists live the drab life of a couch potato, consistently taking the path of least resistance.

The second road is a search for deeper meaning, which is always a more difficult trek. On this we pose the question: surely there must be some reason for our life here, something that can outlive our time on earth? As life starts to fade we desire to connect with the deeper stream of life which flows underneath day to day realities. We shouldn’t underestimate how difficult this search is, nor discount the enduring appeal of hedonism.

Life moves slowly, there are many ordinary moments blanketing this grand endeavor of searching. It is often dry and unfulfilling. The “reason” behind life can appear like an oasis in the distance. We think we’ve found it when stumbling upon a special talent or outward status. “This is what I was made for” we say. Other people’s praise for our activity only reinforces the belief that this desert oasis is in fact our true identity. These identities are like shirts of a different size that we’re constantly taking off and trying back on. Maybe one of them will fit just right?

But though we may rest easy for a time, the oasis can never fully satisfy.

These are walks through a desert road and they are difficult. Torment of the daily mundane and the fleetingness of our personal oases can become unbearable. That is when we are tempted back to hedonism and an escape from the trudging path forward.

In my earlier days we would go on a World Tour. This consisted of assembling a group, walking around town and purchasing a round of beers at every bar or convenience store we passed. While drinking and walking, we would let the traffic lights determine our route. We would just go in a direction until we reached a stop light. If the light was green, we’d go straight, if the light was red we’d turn left or right (as determined by some hazy and arbitrary rule). It was called a World Tour because you could end up just about anywhere.

This wasn’t exactly desert walking, this was a different kind of walking. The path of least resistance.

It was on a World Tour one evening that I ripped my only nice pair of pants from top to bottom, drunkenly tripping over a fence. A job interview scheduled for the next day never happened. Rather, I spent the day nursing a hangover and feeling rather aimless.

That particular night my World Tour was beer, but over the years my drug of choice has taken many forms and concealed itself in the most harmless of activities (or a lack of activity). But all of these – from drinking to a blacked-out state to a momentary stroll (scroll) down the path of self-indulgence – were a World Tour.

Which path to take? It is a daily choice, a universal human question.

You cannot walk two roads, but only a naïve fool underestimates the path of least resistance. How appealing its sweet siren call! How alluring the momentary respite from responsibility!

There are times when the desert road becomes too difficult, and we allow the traffic lights to determine our direction instead. We deceive ourselves by saying: do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough worries of its own. As you sleep in late, pants-less and hung-over, rest easy knowing that the path of least resistance will guide you where you want to go.