The shuffling of the vast crowd on the wide, worn path was enough to drown out the birds overhead.

Aidin kept finding his eyes drifting up as he mindlessly kept pace; their winged-freedom caused something light to well within him. A loose rock or stumbling traveler would bring him back to earth, though it was not long before his mind returned to the air.

He was not entirely sure where they were going, only that they needed to go. Occasionally conversation and even debate would arise among the walkers, their perceptions of the destination varying wildly:

“We are going somewhere safer, where nothing can harm us.”
“No, we are going to a land of thriving, where we will want for nothing.”
“I heard only the best of us will make it, and there we will be in charge.”
“That’s all nonsense. There’s nothing at the end of this road, all of it is meaningless.”

Aidin had considered all these and more in the years of journeying. Each season his hopes, or his fears, or his exhaustion would shape his understanding of their wandering, though his conviction never lasted beyond the next season. Each time, something in him could admit that there was much he did not know. Even more, he believed something deeper was at play.

When his eyes would follow the birds, he sensed something greater was with them, a presence perhaps, and though he could not see it, it could see him. It could see everything. Aidin could not tell you the length of the path, but the presence could see its start and end. Sometimes, when the shuffling and murmuring were loud enough, he would whisper to the presence, “Is this the right path? Can you tell me what this is for?” He never heard an answer, but believing he himself was heard brought a degree of peace; the presence may not answer, but surely would stop him if he was off track.

The moment this happened was jarring.

Everything else was the same – the shuffling, the conversing, the flittering birds – except for the nudge. It was not a physical nudge, rather something internal; not quite unsettling, though ignoring it felt uncomfortable. Something told him – without voice – to look to his right, something he had done casually plenty of times before. Along the path was a wall of trees, brush, and thorns so thick you could only see three or four layers deep. It was pointless to think much about them, as it all looked the same, and what lay beyond was moot due to their impenetrable density.

Aidin scanned along the tree line, so focused he would trip and stumble into others. “Pay attention to the road!” “There’s nothing over there!” As his searching yielded nothing, he began to agree, tempted to stop but for the nagging nudge. His eyes squinted as he stared for anything that could justify his obedience to a silent call.

He nearly missed the narrow gate through his ruminating thoughts. The dull wood of the small door blended seamlessly with the adjacent trees, and the creeping vines wrapped around it made it clear how infrequently it had been opened. The canopy of the looming trees kept it in shadow, but if you squinted hard enough you could distinguish the start of a thin, overgrown path just beyond.

Aidin stopped short, causing travelers to collide with him and each other. The jostling failed to register; he had never seen anything like the narrow gate. He was amazed, not because it was spectacular, but because it existed at all. There had always only been one path, which everyone followed, and the existence of another was too much for his mind to comprehend.

He was simultaneously excited and afraid. The gate answered none of his previous questions – in fact, it posed more – yet it made him wonder if they mattered at all. He never quite knew where he was going, so why not go a new way? What if that was unwise? Afterall, he could barely see the path through the thicket, it may actually be an illusion, or even a trap.

Doubt unstopped his ears, and angry voices broke through. “What are you doing?” “You’re impeding our journey!” “Is something wrong with you?!” For the first time in what felt like hours though it was barely a minute, Aidin turned from the gate to the furious faces surrounding him.

“I… I’m sorry… I just…”
“Spit it out! What’s so important over there that you would cause this much commotion?!”
“It’s… there was a nudge…”
“Someone pushed you?”
“No, not a real nudge… I mean… I don’t know how to explain it, but it told me to look right.”
“Who told you?”

Aidin became flustered; what seemed so real became impossible to put into words. When it was clear he could not explain it nor would they understand, he pointed to the gate.

“The gate.”
“What gate?”

Aidin motioned to the subtle depression in the wall of trees. “There, where it’s a little darker, there’s a narrow gate there.” Some followed his outstretched arm, others scoffed and set back on the road, and none could see what Aidin saw.

“It’s right there.”
The heads around him began to shake. “There’s nothing. You’ve caused all this trouble for nothing.”

Aidin was more sure of the gate than he had been about anything, yet those around him were so convinced otherwise that he began to question his sanity. Just as he was about to shift his eyes and start walking to avoid further embarrassment, the nudge grew so strong that his feet moved forward before he could direct them.

For the first time, he stepped off the wide path; for a moment fear filled him, followed by a quiet, still peace. His eyes shifted from the faces before him, along the path both ways. A faint dust cloud stretched for miles on either side of them, an endless stream of walkers leaving and approaching unknown destinations. What had seemed natural moments looked awkwardly unnatural from the side of the road.

Aidin turned to face the narrow gate, still hidden amidst the brush, though slightly easier to find. Whereas walking the wide path now felt strange, entering the mysterious narrow path somehow seemed important. Neither path gave answers, the one into the woods even fewer, yet he no longer had a desire to return to his old journey.

His mind struggled with this, and it did not help that the crowd vocalized his thoughts.

“Are you crazy? If you don’t get back on the path you’ll die!”
“There’s nothing there for you; if you go into the trees something awful will happen.”
“I’ve heard stories of tree-walkers. They are crazy and live awful lives.”
“There’s a reason so many of us are on the road; it’s the right and only way.”

All of this sounded right, but felt wrong. “I’m… I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to try this little gate…”

“Do you not see the thorns? Do you not hear the wild animals? What you are doing is idiotic and reckless.”

Aidin knew there was nothing he could say to convince, just as he knew there was nothing he could do to shake the invitation into the woods.

“You’re a fool.”
These words hit harder than the rest, because he felt like a fool. What he was about to do went against everything he had ever known and been told. He would not only lose his place on the path, but may lose the path entirely! He could get lost in the dark forest, coming to ruin all because of a foolish choice.

None of this made sense… but had anything? Many had taken the wide path before him, but no one could agree why. Aidin realized he had never heard consistent accounts of the wide road’s purpose. He looked down the road once more, and for miles he saw nothing but dirt and trudging; he turned to the tiny gate, and could see nothing beyond a few feet… but beyond that could be anything. Which was more foolish, to continue on the path that you knew deep down would not satisfy, or to take the dangerous path that could lead to something better?

Shouts of “fool!” continued as Aidin positioned his entire body before the gate; beyond physical, he could feel himself shifting internally. He had to; a choice this irrational required him to be all in. His hand, mind, heart, and the deepest part of his being reached out and grasped the unhinged edge of the gate, and after a long, heavy breath, pulled it toward him. The shouts and shuffling quieted, leaving only soft rustling of leaves before him, and – somewhere beyond the trees – birds.

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.”
Matthew 7:13-14