As I sit here sipping a cappuccino before heading out for the evening, I’m pondering what may be one of my bigger decisions of the last decade; obviously not THE biggest, if you know me, but still – moderately challenging in terms of determining the best course of action.  As is typical with me and my fellow-travelers, Byronesque romantics all, my head and heart are leading me in two different directions for the moment.  Will there be a dramatic last-minute reconciliation between the two?  Will there be a slow arabesque, drawing head and heart closer together until finally they realize that they can coexist and be happy together with the same decision?  Will they remain standoffish, forcing me to choose the happiness of the one at the expense of the other?  Only time will tell.

In the meantime, I Godzilla-wrestled my car into submission tonight, replacing a thornily-placed radiator hose with four connections, a mini-Hydra of rubber and grease and oxidized coolant.  I emerged victorious (naturally – I’m a stud).  However, I’m still picking grit and motor oil out of various crevices in my body, and this is even after I showered and scrubbed like a surgeon with OCD.  I figure after a couple cold beers I won’t mind, and I’ve learned quite a bit about my car’s engine in the last couple days that will serve me will for future explorations under the hood.

I’m going to stop there or else I’ll bore you to fucking tears and nobody likes a bore.

It’s funny how your life can tend to be defined as the accretion of decisions made over months and years.  I say “tend to” because I am thoughtfully considering whether or not this is actually the case, or whether it is just habit and expectation and norms that make us the sum of our past.

A friend writes on Twitter:

if you won the lottery, how would you spend $2 million vs. $10 million.

Interesting thought exercise, because it tells you what your true magnetic north might be.  Would you do more of the same – whatever it is you’re doing now?  Would you make radical changes?  Why?  If money defines freedom, what would you use that freedom for?

A famous quote:

You can’t change your destination overnight, but you can change your direction overnight.

What direction would you pick?  Would you head to the same place(s) you were heading for yesterday, last month, last year?

A new acquaintance asks me “What is your passion in life?” To which I respond:

Multiple things: innovation, creativity, true love, the pursuits of the intellect, my kids, Liverpool Football Club, positive thinking.

I could add a handful of things to that list if pressed, but another way to look at it is that life represents a series of choices, a series of decisions, a list of opportunity costs.  You can’t be passionate about everything – at some level you choose, every day, by how you spend you time, who and what you think about, what you produce, what you consume, what you share, what you hold back, and by the narrative you carry around in your head about how the world works.

I guess my thesis – if I get to choose – is that we have a lot more freedom to set our direction that one might originally suppose.  As they say about money, everything is fungible.

Is there a missing ingredient?  I would say “thought”.   Thinking.  Reflection.  Don’t assume that you’re destined, fated, preordained, or stuck if some little part of your brain is dissatisfied.  Think about what you can do TODAY to change your direction.   Sample thought exercise: think of one person that would give you the most uplifting, motivational, aligned, engaged, inspiring conversation that will lead to positive change in your life.  E-mail that person and offer to buy them a cup of coffee.

Following up on yesterday’s post “Making Difficult Product Development Choices”, I ran across this article in the New York Times that reviews experiments done by Dr. Dan Ariely. Dan is a professor of behavioral economics at MIT. He has found, unsurprisingly, that people can’t bear to limit their options.

The Times article talks about some funny experiments to get subjects to give up options and in return get actual cash, hard dollars — but it’s SOOO hard for them, even when they should be able to predict the output and thus get more money. You can play the (non-cash) simulation yourself here.

“Closing a door on an option is experienced as a loss, and people are willing to pay a price to avoid the emotion of loss,” Dr. Ariely says. In the experiment, the price was easy to measure in lost cash. In life, the costs are less obvious — wasted time, missed opportunities.

David Allen, the creator of GTD, has a favorite phrase: “Know what you’re NOT doing.” The idea is that the more conscious and intentional you are about not exploring every option for the use of your time, the less psychic stress you’ll feel. Makes sense, and it works!