Decisions, decisions. I understand now why decisions were easier to make before I had kids. I was the only one affected by my decision. Now, whatever I decide, whatever I plan, my kids and my husband are affected.
I’m facing a big decision right now. I have more or less been staring this decision down for about 26 months. It comes. It goes. Sometimes it’s very clear what my decision should be. Most days, I just float through my life, hoping something will happen to force my decision.
Good decisions are hard to make. And they are the stuff of real life. Of a life that has taken over with everything it’s got. But a life that hasn’t really pushed me into anything I didn’t think I could handle. I made the easy decisions. The ones I knew I could live with.
The decision I’m facing now, it’s not a bad thing. Every fiber of my being screams that it’s going to be amazing (once I take that leap). But it’s also going to be hard. But real life is like that. It makes you work for the reward.
I’ve too often felt guilty for the “easy” life I lead. I have a wonderful husband who works hard and provides both love and financial stability for us, two amazing kids, my health, a good job, a nice house close to family and friends, the list goes on. But I haven’t worked particularly hard for any of it. I have always taken Easy Street.
Hard Street scares me. And mostly it scares me because it’s my choice to give up my path on Easy Street and trudge down Hard Street. And what if my choice is the wrong one? Hard Street is kind of a one way street, so finding Easy Street again wouldn’t likely happen.
But the potential rewards at the end of Hard Street? They would be sweet.
I heard a saying recently.
“When faced with two choices, simply toss a coin. It works not because it settles the question for you, but because in that brief moment when the coin is in the air, you suddenly know what you are hoping for.”
Perhaps I should just flip a coin.