How Do You Decide?
And what happens to our un-lived potential?
There’s a version of me that lives in New York City. I moved there in my twenties, perhaps seeking five neurotic friends and a caffeine addiction, or three girlfriends with whom I’d drink cosmopolitans and discuss mostly sex and, less so, the city. I found my fortune in a glamorous and fulfilling job and was always running from one important place to another, likely amongst harried traffic and always carrying a cappuccino.
This never happened, of course. That version of me never got incarnated into this life. Neither did the version that followed the love of my life to Asia and, despite becoming divorced at 25, found more freedom than I’d ever find in a city. Or the version that bought a bar on a Greek island and would later become an ouzo-soaked writer, looking out over the beautiful harbour mouth of the Dodecanese. Or the one who did a PhD in English Literature. Or the one who actually did learn French.
There are so many lives that go un-lived. Opportunities not taken. Eggs not fertilised. Part of the human experience is being confronted with the ghosts of our decisions. The what-if’s and maybe’s that whisper to us in our waking dreams.
We’re insatiable greedy little things when you think about it. We want more and also and, maybe instead, but usually as well. We want the thrill of the risk plus the comfort of safety. The reckless abandon with a side of pragmatism and forward-thinking.
We might torment ourselves with indecision. Or plague our present with past choices. Our relationship with ‘the one that got away’ and ‘the road not taken’ might stir a longing in our heart whose song is never fully silent.
Many of my clients speak about the pain of indecision - how do they know if they make/made the right choice? But how can we ever fully know? There is no right and wrong way to do life. We make choices every day and time moves forward. We can’t go back so the fear of moving forward ‘incorrectly’ will only get us very stuck. Even time becomes a nonsense when you consider that none of us really know how much we have.
There are so many versions of me that exist. My lived incarnation can’t follow their footsteps, but I still carry them inside me. They each show up at different times and are very, very much alive. Rather than base their existence on what they have, it’s about who they are. The city girl who wants the metropolis of opportunity. The islander who wants the joy of simple connections and the space for reflection. The student who wants to disappear into words and ideas. The romantic who would sacrifice anything for love.
We can choose whether we wistfully pine for opportunities not taken, or acknowledge our alter-egos when they show up to understand their drives and desires as our own. If they are unsatisfied, what is it that we want in this incarnation that would make them feel alive rather than deadened, haunting us only as ghosts. Rather than worry so much about which path we take, we might better consider who it is that’s on the path.