One of my favourite walking trails is the one that leads to Tiffany Falls, Ontario. At the beginning of the trail, you cannot see the waterfall, so you must trust in the pictures and maps that are provided for you.

The path to the waterfall is a well-groomed trail, complete with boardwalks and wooden bridges to ease your way around the creek that carries the water away from the base of the waterfall. The route’s hazards are few, with only the occasional large rock or tree root sticking out of the ground. Only the ones, who are not paying attention to what is coming, may sustain a minor scratch or bruise. There are plenty of warnings stating if you were to stray from this path, it could result in serious injury. The trail is designed by people who believe they know what is best for your safety. When you walk the groomed path, it is near impossible to disagree with their recommendation.

Yet, I see a second trail. This path is what nature carved out for water to be transported to various parts of the forest to nurture the other living entities. Although the water is very shallow, the trail is not smooth. It is filled with twists and turns, rocks, fallen trees with their limbs, soils and dead leaves that are still left over from the previous Fall season. If I were to take this path instead of the one that was decided for me, the journey would not be an easy one. The number of obstacles I would have to overcome are too numerous to count and there might be bumps and scrapes along the way. If the day is a particularly warm one, the energy that I would need to expend to get to my destination would cause my body to sweat and possibly dehydrate, despite the water that is pushing against me.

My Mentor, who has never guided me in the wrong direction, whispered three promises to me. First, they promised to provide me with all the equipment I need to navigate this trail. Second, The Mentor promised the easier trail will always be there, and there would be no shame if I decide to switch to the path that everyone else is taking. Third, they promised the reward at the end of the second route will be far greater than if I were to take the groomed path. The one thing The Mentor refused to promise me is the second trail would be painless. In fact, they warned me this would not be an easy trek.

Armed with the proper anti-slip hiking footwear, waterproof clothing, rope, climbing axes, a filled water bottle and a hope for an exceptional experience in the end; I set out on the second trail. In the beginning, the trail does not seem too difficult, with just a few slippery rocks. Navigation of this path is much slower than the groomed road; therefore, I will likely be one of the last people to enjoy the awe-inspiring view of the waterfall. I feel the curious, yet critical and mocking eyes of the people watching me climb from their elevated position. Every time I took my eyes off the route in front of me to pay attention to critical strangers above me, I would stumble, leaving me with stinging scrapes and bruises. The incline of the path was difficult enough, but every large log or bolder blocking my movement forward leaves me longing for an easier road. When the bridge that intersected my path forward forced me to briefly transverse the groomed road; the scream from my new scars begged me to give into the temptation in front of me. Despite my brief pause, I denied the pleading of my injuries and continued the journey which was laid out for me by The Mentor.

What would possess me to take the second trail when there was a perfectly groomed road handed to me? Especially if there is no guarantee that it will be the kind of waterfall I was hoping for.

After a few more hurdles, my hope for the reward is starting to wane. Yet, in my doubt, the distinct roar of falling water began to reverberate throughout the space around me. A new flash of hope and excitement gave my tired muscles a second burst of energy that I believed was gone. A twist in the creek, a bolder and a fallen tree were the last of my obstacles. My bruised, aching and exhausted body arrived at my destination and the view was exactly what The Mentor had promised.

Directly in front of me was a shallow pool of fresh water which served as the landing point of a 21-meter-tall waterfall. The angle of the sun coming through the trees reflected a faint rainbow in its mist. The groomed trail had already stopped just before the pool began. There was a quaint fenced off platform that kept the unchallenged hikers at a ‘safe’ distance, yet my path was unblocked.

I slowly waded in the shallow pool, right up to the cascade. The chill from the water perforated my waterproof clothing and soothed my newly stiffened muscles. Where the obstacles sliced my surface in a deliberant attempt to deter me from my goal, the waterfall washed away the scabs and cleaned my wounds. I felt rejuvenated and energized. Had I given into taking the groomed trail, I would not have this experience. The road was long, extremely difficult, with a few costs along the way; but I would do it all over again because the alternative would have prevented me from experiencing accomplishment, joy and rejuvenation.

In the end, I am left with this hard-fought lesson: The second trail maybe more difficult with a lot of painful bumps and hurdles along the way, but if you persevere and deny the temptation to take easier trail, the rewards will far exceed the original promise.

Question for the audience: Tell me about your second trail. Are you navigating it now, or what is holding you back?