The work we get to do is challenging. And that’s good because it shows we care and were willing to go the distance. And along the way, we learn to manage our failures. how we address them and feel about them.
If everything was easy everyone would be doing it and it might not feel that fulfilling.
Often something will happen and that forces us to adapt.
There’s a change agent.
And that agent may be in or outside of our control and may or may not be initiated by us.
It might be a young couple at the doctor’s surgery and the wife is receiving the results of a cancer test. Now lots of decisions need to be made.
Or to an older person, realising that after 40 years in the same job, getting out of bed just isn’t fulfilling anymore. And now they want to go in search of their passions and find purpose.
Whether we’ve chosen to make the change or the change is making us re-evaluate our options, any decision-making will often lead to obstacles in new and unchartered territory.
Things we hadn’t banked on or the outcomes were not as we expected.
Maybe there was something we hadn’t factored in and now we’re challenged to find a solution.
Challenges allow us the time and space to transform and adapt to our new worlds.
It gives us a new decision point.
To do this… or that, to overcome the obstacle.
And, choosing to not make a decision, is also making a decision.
It is a choice to ignore it and keep ploughing on.
The fulfilment truly lies in the resolution. Whether it be a good or a bad outcome, the consequences of our actions validate our decision-making.
And because there is that risk of failure, often we remain in the land of stuck.
We hide from decision-making because there are too many unknowns and possible results.
And we can often be paralysed by choice or fear the good outcomes too.
What if it did work this time and I was successful?
Maybe I’d be better off maintaining this status quo and dealing with my unhappiness quietly on my own.
There’s a philosophical fable about a donkey that was equally thirsty and hungry and placed precisely midway between a stack of hay and a pail of water.
Because neither option was closer, the donkey couldn’t make a rational decision between the two.
So he died of thirst and hunger.
When really all he needed to do was pick one and then the other.
Doing nothing is still a choice.
It’s not the end.
Now, there is work to be done.
Failures to be created.
And learning to be had.
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Abbie Pierce 