The Art of Decision Making

Earlier this month, I hosted a Masterclass around decisions because it's become increasingly clear that many of us aren't making decisions. 

That probably sounds like an overgeneralization, and maybe it is. I always thought of myself as a decisive person. When friends wanted to get dinner, I often figured out where we'd go because it was always the easiest (rather than going back and forth trying to decide as a group). 

I also knew I was decisive at work; when hard decisions needed to be made, I often could see the direct path and make it happen. I never let myself worry about all the possible outcomes I couldn't have control over; movement was the most crucial piece in the corporate leadership role I held. 

So, I was decisive. I knew how to make decisions quickly and communicate straightforward next steps. 

But, I had a realization that while I was excellent at making decisions for my external world (aka whatever would impact others), I had a lot of decisions I was flat out ignoring that affected me and me alone. 

I honestly didn't realize I wasn't making decisions because I was burying the need to make them so deep. 

When I realized this, I couldn't understand how I could be so decisive in one sense and so indecisive in another. I could see the relationship to being an obliger, but I still knew I had to look into this further so I could move forward. 

Why we don't make decisions 

There seem to be a few main reasons we don't make decisions: deep-rooted fears and anxieties. 

The first reason we seem to get stuck is basic choice overload. This seems to happen immediately for some; for others, maybe they begin thinking of options and just hit a point where they can't keep going, so they stop. With this challenge, we ultimately don't even get to where we understand the possible options and decisions to be made. 

Next up, I think the most apparent is the fear of making the wrong decision. Maybe you know what all the options are, but there is so much riding on it, so much responsibility. From this place, you continue to go back and forth, talking yourself in and then out of what the "right" decision is. Ultimately, this can go on for a very long time, as it did with me. 

The following two are related to the above idea of making the right decision but more specific. 

We all strive for perfection (that's another topic for another day). It's been ingrained in us for a very long time that perfect is best. So, some people don't make decisions because of the fear that the outcome won't be perfect. So, maybe they know what the "right" choice is, but the actual possibility of it not being the perfect outcome stops them from moving forward. 

Lastly, sometimes it's not the worry of you making the right decision for yourself, but the idea that the decision made might not be what others want/like. This is a powerful one; it's programmed in us to want to be part of the whole, part of our family, and ultimately part of the tribe (it goes far back). The idea that a decision you make will make others unhappy or possibly cut you off from your people is enough to stop you from moving forward. 

So, now what?

We all must start making decisions; the impact of not doing so is significant. Decisions left un-made take up space and energy, even when you think you've buried it away. 

For me, I spent years flip-flopping between leaving my corporate job. I felt less and less valued but still clung to the hope and joy I had from the first seven years with the company. I felt the weight of the people I led, and I didn't want to let them down. And beyond that, did I have the ability to make a living as a coach? These thoughts occupied my days and nights for years, I didn't know how to make a decision, so it just ate away at me as I tried to ignore it. 

I had all the fear around this. 

But what I came to realize was that not making a decision was most likely more painful than actually making one. I wasn't the person I wanted to be because of the weight I was holding on to not making this decision. 

I was eventually allowed (or given permission) to decide independently. I was lucky to have the option I did, and I immediately knew the right decision. 

Human decision making

I continued to dive into decisions to understand them better. As I did so, I realized there are different ways to make decisions, some excellent, others less so. 

The most basic decision-making is based on need. This is the most common way decisions are made and the one least aligned with us internally. These are decisions made and based on survival (I need to pay my bills) and are also typically running away from something rather than to something (I need to get away from this company). 

While need is imperative and rooted in (obviously) our basic survival, in general, it tends to be painful and based in scarcity. 

The second way to make decisions is based in want. Typically this is more of an external driver. For example, it's harnessed well with competitiveness, and that energy can push you forward more easily (I want to win). This is a massive step up from making decisions based in need, but still not the full-potential we have. 

The last and most powerful way to make decisions is based on desire. While want and desire might sound similar, they are very different. Desire is the deep alignment with your soul desire (I desire to help people live their best lives). Desire might not be logical, but when you tap into this zone, you realize that making decisions from this space of alignment, the things you want and need will also be taken care of. 

The tricky part is that we have been taught to make decisions from a need, maybe some want in there. We've been taught not even to dare thinking about what we desire because what gives us that right?

So, as we strive to become more decisive and stop holding ourselves back, we need to focus on what we desire deep down. 

Only then will we be able to overcome the indecisiveness and genuinely move forward from a place of desire, where we choose to move towards something, not run from something to the unknown. 

Talia RosenblumComment