There are so many choices we make every day, and most of them are tiny and inconsequential. All of our choices drive to bigger things, but it’s a small handful for which we really know we’re making a life-path selection. Things like what job we take, where we choose to live, and whom we choose to marry. The really biggees–where we’re keenly aware of how much they matter–are decisions we can count on one or two hands.
Where we choose to go to college is one of these. When we were driving around Madison a few weeks ago, I was struck by this one. The University of Wisconsin is a great school with a cool campus and surrounded by a terrific landscape of city and lakes—but it won’t be Dylan’s future (unless something unforeseen happens). Likewise, his college future won’t be at Boston University or the other schools he was considering. He couldn’t be happier about his choice for UM Ross (nor could we), but any ‘yes’ requires some firm ‘nos.’
In quantum physics, the concept of the multiverse is fairly mind-bending. For every choice you don’t make, a separate reality splits off and somewhere else that choice plays out—resulting in an infinite number of daughter universes or parallel universes. In addition to being a legit scientific concept, Blake Crouch also wrote about it in his fictional book, Dark Matter. (Thumbs up on that one.)
It’s pretty interesting to think about. When the deer ran into the side of Dylan’s car, Dylan had taken a few extra seconds to be sure the tricky door at work was locked. The door is problematic because the building is settling—a result of choices made months before about the way the foundation was laid. Precisely where the deer hit the car—it’s timing—made all the difference in Dylan’s safety that night. You can argue that some things would happen anyway, and aren’t the result of small things. Terry and I went to school together, so it was no fluke we met and fell in love. But in other cases, it’s the tiny things that lead to something that might otherwise have happened differently.
Regardless, it’s a lesson in the present, I think. Every moment counts.
It’s probably also a lesson in commitment—of going full force and of jumping in with both feet. Our daughter is doing this in her new job and new city. Friends are retiring from work (wow, another big decision). The water may be a bit cold, but once you jump off the bank, there’s no going back.
To say ‘yes’, we have to say ‘no’ to all the other options, even when they were good ones. This is the nature of commitment, I think. Liberating ourselves from the things that might have been in order to move confidently forward.
We helped Alex get settled in her condo a couple months ago. We will move Dylan into his new campus digs this week. They are committed. So are we—to their transition and their success. There are a million things they won’t do—but so many bigger things they will do. The yes of anticipation, the yes of commitment, the yes of the future.
Choosing a path and going for it—bring it on.