Druthers

“Everything is a choice.”  I read these words upon opening my eyes to the morning light and decide I’ll apply this line of thinking to the planned and unplanned events of the day, to prove (or disprove) this hypothesis. Can absolutely everything be a choice?

It is a choice to throw off the covers in the morning and step out into the mist for a pre-dawn run. It’s a choice to fire up my computer and begin my conference calls at 7:30 AM, to slip out for a cup of coffee when my meeting unexpectedly ends early.  It’s a choice to share my opinion on the business challenge at hand, or to remain silent, deferring to others.  It’s a choice to pay my bills, to work hard at yoga, to drink a green smoothie when I’d rather have a hamburger.

We can trick ourselves into believing we don’t have choices.  Going to work, for example, can seem like one such instance.  A job can feel like an obligation, not because we’re physically chained to the desk, but because the repercussions of not working are too harsh to bear; the alternatives so loathsome we wouldn’t ever consider them. Who would pay for our next great pair of shoes?  How would we keep our homes?  Put food on the table?  While it might not seem so obvious, we’re making a choice to go to the office.

 

My ah-ha moment lightened several years ago at a time when I was frustrated at my lack of upward movement in my job.  To hear me describe it back then there were “no opportunities”, and I had “no choice” but to stay in my existing role.  Upon further examination (many months later, unfortunately), I realized my own misguided perspective colored my thinking. I was making pointed choices to be present and available to raise my children which took me out of the running for many positions requiring travel or relocation.  I understood then and there I felt trapped, not because there was nothing out there for me, but because my personal choices about family were so firmly fixed and non-negotiable, I couldn’t see how I was adversely impacting my professional ambition.

Many choices can be looked at objectively, consequences weighed and decisions made independent of others.  Complication sets in when we consider the expectations another may have of us or worse yet, we presume expectations where none exist at all. We put ourselves in positions where we feel like we can’t say no.  This is how we end up purchasing a $25 bag of Cub Scout caramel corn we don’t need, or sitting through an all-day baby shower in a dreary banquet hall on one of the few remaining glorious autumn days.  In these cases we move away from choices that reflect our own truth, creating imaginary obligations we’re torn, even resentful, about fulfilling.

Time is a precious and finite commodity.  Our choices around how we spend the 525,600 minutes we’re granted each year of life play a part in whether we are stressed or relaxed, harried or calm, sad or happy. We’re not always going to love all of our choices, but knowing they are ours to make is empowering.

There are things we don’t get a say in, like whether the sun shines or it rains, what might come out of a manager’s mouth at the next one-on-one meeting, or what kind of mood a significant other arrives home in after a long day at the office.  But we do get to choose how we receive these situations.

I’ve been away from this blog for some time.  And, yes, I’ve missed it.  It would be easy to say I just don’t have the time.  But the truth is I am prioritizing differently, putting other happy activities in my life ahead of this one.  It’s a choice that may disappoint those who look forward to reading, a choice I revisit at times to make sure I'm still good with it.  But I know it’s my choice.  I'm happy to own it.