Decisions, Decisions...
What are you trying to decide right now?
Would you trust your future to a coin toss?
Steven Levitt of Freakonomics fame once persuaded a group of indecisive people to go along with the results of a coin toss. The coin toss would make the choice. No more ruminating, tossing and turning at night, and pestering friends with the same question week after week. Heads: yes. Tails: no. The question of job offers, moves, marriage proposals or new pets would be solved.
As The Book of Beautiful Questions tells it, six months later Levitt followed up with the coin-tossers. He found the heads (“yes”) people were meaningfully happier than the tails (“no”) people. When people were genuinely undecided, taking a risk made them happier.
One hot summer, I was a chaplain in training at a big hospital with a trauma center. Every week, a different teenager came into the Neurology ICU with a shattered spine. To escape the heat, people were swimming in creeks and rivers, and kids couldn’t resist diving in. Week after week, a teenager woke up in the ICU to hear how much their life had changed.
One night I ran into the nurse manager of the unit in the grocery store, still dressed in her hospital scrubs. At the end of a long day, she still carried the anger of the teenagers and the despair of their parents. I found her in the cookie aisle, tossing treats into her cart. She smiled wryly, and explained that she had teenagers of her own at home. Gesturing at the pile of cookies, she explained, “I try to say yes as much as possible.”
“If it’s not life-threatening,” she added. “it’s a yes.”
Every work day reminded her how dangerous the world is, and somehow, she didn’t hunker down and wrap her kids in bubble wrap. She practiced finding ways to say yes.
Her example has stayed with me. In a world where it’s easy to stay home, to be too cautious, to let friendships wither when we’re exhausted, to keep looking down at our phones instead of up at each other, saying no is effectively our default.
It’s compelling to think about where we can say yes.
Of course, we’re fortunate to have choices. As the people of Gaza and Ukraine and Sudan struggle to survive, the options on any given day are few. Every day is dangerous, and no choice is safe.
If we’re fortunate enough to have choices, The Book of Beautiful Questions offers another crystal ball. Author and consultant John Hagel suggests that “whenever you face a decision between two diverging paths, ask yourself the following: When I look back in five years, which of these options will make the better story?” As Hagel explains, “no one ever regrets taking the path that leads to the better story.” I bet some people do, actually, regret that flamboyant choice…still, I love this as a guide to a more engaged life.
Heads: yes. Tails: hell, yes!
Image via Pexels.
Nice options. Loved the nurse's response with her own children. Love spoiling my grandkids when they'll let me know. Letting them participate in the choice-making makes them easier to get along with
My wife and I are temporarily directing a Presbyterian Camp in northeastern PA that has fallen on hard times as has been the case with countless churches and camps across the country. This camp is located in the Endless Mountains and looks out upon a stunningly beautiful mountain ridge while sitting on the scenic Susquehanna River. I've visited numerous camps over my years in church camping but consider this one of the most awe-inspiring. But now it is vastly underused, and our job is to manage the property, staff, program while simultaneously attempting to kickstart the whole operation to somehow return, even just a little, to the glory days of 20 years ago.
Because we are so in need of campers and user groups, I try to always say "yes" to accommodate their needs and wants. The group here now is the Larpers (Live Action Role-Playing). "Someone who re-enacts fantasy scenarios by dressing up and taking a character role. Apparently these folks don't just like Dungeons and Dragons, they carry foam swords around, pretend to fight other LARPers and take the whole thing semi-seriously." They call the camp Sacred Ground while they are here.
Not exactly the kind of group we might have hosted years ago, but "beggars can't be choosy". So we find the good in what they are doing: live drama, friendly human interaction, reenactment of great literature (sometimes), escape from daily existence in the real world, etc. Why not? If it enables the camp to continue its miinistry of service and hospitality a little while longer. We might even find we can show lovingkindness in a rather unorthodox and unexpected fashion. And everyone is better off as a result.