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Friday, August 30, 2013

Living with It

Most decisions - the many that populate our every day - color and shape our every day, but rarely do they have lasting impact. For the most part, it's only the cumulative effect of all our choices that turn us into who we are.

But now and then, we face the kind of decisions that have long-term impact...the kind that we have to live with the decision and the consequences thereof.

  • Unlike an iffy choice in a restaurant...(at worst, you've wasted money and food - which isn't good, but the lasting impact is hopefully brief)
  • Unlike an erroneous decision to watch TV instead of studying for a test...(at worst, you bomb - which isn't good, since few treats the MCATs or LSATs cavalierly, the lasting impact is hopefully brief)
  • Unlike a faulty opting in or out of a "plan" (for insurance, for your cell phone, for a club membership to your favorite store)...(at worst, you've spent money you didn't need to spend OR didn't save the money you could have saved later, the lasting impact is hopefully brief (I know - I'm missing out on a 2000 NIS (~$575) deal because I was cocky about one such insurance plan, and that money counts...but hopefully it won't make or break my life).

You get the idea. Most decisions - good, bad, or indifferent - are timely and therefore brief.

But some hoist you in for the long haul. And those merit a different kind of consideration.

Not: What am I in the mood for right now? Not: What do I need right now? Not even: What do I think I will need later? Rather: What can I live with for a good long time?

Ironically, what a person can live with for a good long time is not always what sends him or her head over heels with enthusiasm in the short term.

The easy parable is food: You might be thrilled with the arrival of gummy bears (or gummy fish or gummy snakes) for your snack (I wouldn't be - I don't like them at all; give me chocolate instead, please). But if your ongoing diet consisted of the gummy and nothing else - no protein, no fat, no carbs, no nutrition - you would shrivel up and die (or not, because you'd simply reject the long-term option).

Several times in my life, people have told me how I so love whatever it is that I'm doing. I chose an undergraduate thesis topic (rabbinic responses to the Holocaust, if you must know) that made people say, oh you must love it, you must be so fascinated. It seems I don't tick that way - but it was a topic I could live with for a good long time (like, senior year) without tearing my hair out or perishing from boredom.

I spent a lot of time (hours, days, weeks, months, years) learning Torah in the women's equivalent of yeshiva. One woman from the home community, who might not have entirely favored my curriculum that was heavy-duty Talmud and other areas of Oral Law, seemed to justify my enterprise by telling me often how much I love learning. Namely, "well, you keep at it because you just love learning so much." Really? Did I? Do I? It seems I don't tick that way - but I knew I wanted to learn more, both for the knowledge and the process, and I could live with the enterprise for a good long time (like, 8...9...10 years, depending on how you count) without tearing my hair out or perishing from boredom.

Some decisions are made out of the desires of the moment. Maybe most are. Some decisions are made out of a lasting passion. Those whose passions match their ability to fulfill them or live up to them are fortunate indeed. But some decisions - at least when made by me - are made because they are sound for the long haul. They can be "lived with" - without making you hate the enterprise...or perish from boredom.

And then they can no longer be lived with, it is time to change. Hopefully, that is a possibility when push comes to shove.

Kyra Sedgwick spoke about her decision to leave (and close) The Closer after 7 seasons. In the clip below, she speaks about going out on top. That's part of it, surely. But in the interviews on The Closer DVDs, she also discusses how challenging it was to play the very intense Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson and the often very dark cases that she fought to close on the show. Her sense of what was best for herself, and her honesty about it - despite the high ratings - are moving and illustrative of what it means to make decisions according to what we can live with - for the long haul (even if I can't find a video that captured it just now).