A long time ago, I had a really great conversation in the car with my dad. (Most of our great conversations feel like they happened in the car.)
He was talking about some radio program he’s heard, or some book he’d read, or some interview he’d seen or something. It was about the people who were successful, but more than that, people who were successful and *happy*.
What I remember from this conversation is the idea that the people who ended their lives with no regrets all had one thing in common:
All decisions have motivations; most motivations can be boiled down into two categories – love and fear.
The people who were happy all said the same thing: they made their decisions out of love.
Whatever that love may be… it’s all a matter of framing.
It could be “I’m taking this job because otherwise I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay rent.”
or it could be “I’m taking this job because I love my house.”
Sometimes, though, it’s not quite a matter of framing.
Yesterday, I went to work, at the regular time, and I once again found the office dark and locked. I’ve been out sick with the plague, and so I called my boss to see if I had missed a memo. As it turns out I had, and the base of operations was moving to a different city for the week.
I made a panicked decision on the phone that I would run home, pack a bag, and be back at the office by the time they were needing to leave. (I did that. It took me about four minutes to pack a bag. Boo-yah! Let’s hear it for Backpacking Skyllz!)
After I got to the office though, we ended up sitting around for a while. As we were doing this, I kept getting bombarded with all of the things that I had planned to do this week. (I’ve got Visa things to sort out, school things to sort out, appointments, and then also, I have the amazing opportunities this weekend to cross off three different things off my bucket list.)
I was sitting there, trying to figure out why in the world I was planning to just…put all that off to take a trip I know absolutely nothing about.
The conversation I had the other day about free will and fate was kind of in the forefront of my mind the other day.
If I was sent in back in time, is this the decision I’ll have wanted to make.
If this is creating a permanent track in time, that will forever end in the same decision…do I really want to be going on this trip?
Love or fear.
I could go on this trip, fuelled by fear for my job.
Or I could stay here this week, and pursue my *life*.
Love or fear.
I’m in love with my life, but that’s only true as long as I make it true.
Money will never be worth happiness.
I’m home, and this week will be *beautiful*.