On Making Decisions
Choices, boldness, and the life-affirming kindness of strangers
Over the years, I’ve noticed something. Whenever I use the word “never” — “I’ll never live there, I’ll never do that, I’d never want that…” — the universe laughs and presents me with that thing.
Oftentimes, I actually wind up liking it.
This either means that I am more flexible than I give myself credit for, or that I don’t know what I want. I suspect it is a little of both.
Over the last couple years, I’ve watched as most of my (local) friends have left New York City. They’ve moved for different reasons, be it work, proximity to family, or to live a different, often more affordable, way of life. Much like our friends, my boyfriend and I now find ourselves weighing what — and where — is best for us.
Last week, during the latest episode of this ongoing discussion, I was feeling more enamored than ever with my fair city, despite the rat that RAN ACROSS MY FOOT while dining outdoors. (The dinner was delicious, though, much like the rest of the evening. NYC in a nutshell.)
“I never want to leave!” I said. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I heard a thunderclap in my mind. I had said the word never. The universe was likely already conspiring for my departure.
“Decision fatigue” is psych-speak for that muddled feeling one gets after making a string of choices. It can also happen following periods of increased stress. A single decision feels both weighty and insignificant, framed by factors that are impossible to predict. If that sounds like I just described the last couple years, well, yes I did.
As I’ve watched friends move to new towns, welcome babies, adopt animals, change jobs…I’ve wondered if they are immune to this phenomenon, or if life simply forced their hand. Meanwhile, I’m still here, treading water, content to stay in place as long as I remain afloat.
Sometimes, if I’m quiet, I hear a little voice within. It is the voice of Ross Geller from Friends, in the iconic couch-moving scene, as he instructs, “Pivot… pivot… pivot…PIVOT!” I want to pivot, really I do. But I don’t know which way to turn.
Instead, I read The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. And then I read it again. I feel his words more than ever. But I am no closer to an answer.
Speaking of the road not taken, that shit is so easy to romanticize.
In a very literal sense, the road not taken always seems better when the one you took has bumper-to-bumper traffic. But the other might’ve been littered with potholes. No road is perfect.
A wrong turn can lead down unexpected paths. Even the worst choices may create a ripple effect that carries you to a better future. Dwelling is useless. (Unless you’re looking for material for a romance novel, in which case, idealizing a lost love always, always sells.)
My best friend is a master decision-maker. By which I mean, she goes confidently through this world. She acts. She makes a move, trusting that she can always clean it up later, if need be.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, weighs every choice carefully. (“That makes me sound really cool,” he says.) There are spreadsheets, pro and con lists, discussions, pondering. “I try to be extra sure so I don’t have to deal with the pain of potentially trying to undo it,” he explains. But can one ever be sure of a future outcome?
My own style falls somewhere in between. Sometimes, my intuition speaks loudly, and I follow. Other times, my head takes the lead, rationalizing in dizzy circles.
What I know: I want to maximize my days. I want to answer Mary Oliver’s question as to what to do with my one wild and precious life. But practically, what does that look like?
Whenever I’m confronted with a choice, I always reflect on this advice from a former boss. She told me, “People spend so much time fretting about decisions, but the truth is, that’s not the critical part. What matters is what you do after you make them — your mindset, your follow-through, your willingness to change course if it isn’t what you expected.”
We place so much stress on what we perceive to be huge, life-altering decisions, but perhaps we give them more power than they deserve. Our lives are directed just as much by the micro-decisions, the mundane everyday choices so small we may not even notice we’re making them — the places we frequent, the company we keep, the thoughts we think. As Annie Dillard said, “The way we spend our days, of course, is the way we spend our lives.”
Our tiny, invisible decisions are vessels that carry us from moment to moment, until without even realizing it, our world looks different than it did before. It’s the first date you almost didn’t agree to or the conversation you randomly struck up. It’s what happens after the rejection letter or the pink slip or the diagnosis.
We may think our choices determine everything. But they don’t — silly humans — not even close.
When I reflect on the Before Time — before Covid, before so much of our world changed — I see so clearly everything I didn’t know to be grateful for. The simple pleasure of an afternoon spent working from a café with a friend, not knowing both friend and café would soon be gone.
Perhaps this is the hardest, but also most liberating, factor to consider. If nothing is forever, then nothing is final. So why not be bold?
I may not know what the future holds, but as much as humanly possible, I try to notice all there is to appreciate about this very moment, including any looming decisions. Choices, after all, are a privilege. To stand at a crossroads means we are alive, with agency and options. And that’s not a bad place to be.
Card of the Week
Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.
Earlier today, NYC hosted the 50th New York City Marathon. Marathon day is always my favorite, not just for the race (although it’s incredible), but for the unrivaled sense of community. Across all five boroughs, complete strangers rally to support one another. From spectators waving creative signs, to onlookers ringing bells and shouting cheers, to the volunteers passing out cups of water to exhausted runners, the whole day is a testament to the better side of humanity. If you’re running, these people are a lifeline. From any vantage point, it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes.
This is the energy of the Two of Cups* — a card about coming together to offer commitment, camaraderie, and support. Much like last week’s pull, The Lovers, this card often suggests some form of partnership, whether romantic, platonic, creative, or otherwise.
This week’s card is about that feeling when someone offers you exactly what you need — a hand, a compliment, that mile-five cup of Gatorade — sometimes even before you know you need it. It’s about bridging the gap between our differences and finding a safe place in the middle.
Sometimes, when I’m searching for an answer or feel like I’m at an impasse, I’ll play something I call book roulette. I reach for a random book from my shelf, flip it open to a random page and see what I find. (This can also be done at a library or bookstore, or a literary friend’s home.) Do I always stumble upon the unvarnished truth? No. But I do find something. And like a clue in a scavenger hunt, that something is often enough to point me in a new direction.
There are many ways to approach a situation — across generations, personality types, birth orders…you’ll find more approaches than you know what to do with. If you’ve ever asked, “What Would ______ Do?” you’ve practiced this kind of thinking. Whether you fill in the blank with a divine being or a wholly human one, the answer has something to offer. Even if it doesn’t ring true for you, it stretches the mind to entertain a perspective that is different from your own.
This week’s message urges us to accept support from the sources already around us. It could mean watching a video or listening to a podcast or lecture on a topic you’re interested in. It could mean reading about a philosophy or tradition you don’t know much about. It could mean trying a new yoga or meditation class. It could mean going for a long walk, or else sitting very still, and asking for guidance.
The two of cups reminds us: You don’t need to run a marathon to be worthy of love and support. Your fellow humans see wonder in the efforts of total strangers, including you. (Even if it takes very specific instances for them to feel comfortable holding uplifting signs.)
This week, follow the breadcrumb trail laid by your own curiosity. If something piques your interest, follow it. If someone offers encouragement, believe them. Whatever you do, just keep going, trusting the path ahead. The answers you seek may be just outside your view.
Pulling a random book for its wisdom is called bibliomancy (which you probably knew already), though I do like book roulette, as bibliomancy implies the use of a specific sacred text (often the bible) and I also do it with any old book I have lying around that speaks to me in the moment!