an hour at the Museum of Modern Art and the next wandering north toward Central Park. But when we walked out of the museum at closing time, we were surprised to face an unexpected downpour. This wasn’t walking weather, not for unprepared tourists like us. But we had a whole hour until our next scheduled event nearby—and so we were forced to be spontaneous. Instead of taking a stroll, we thought, Why not duck into a little shop or restaurant for a cup of coffee?
But we had no idea where to go; we weren’t familiar with this part of town. We hadn’t planned ahead, we didn’t have any recommendations to rely on, and none of the places nearby looked promising. We didn’t want to stand on the street corner googling our options; besides, we didn’t have time for that. But we also didn’t want to end up someplace lousy, wasting time and money on something that wasn’t any good. We kept cycling through the same options—the lackluster-looking places we could see on the block and the better ones we knew about that were a bit too far away—but none of them seemed inviting. We were afraid of choosing poorly, and we froze. We didn’t choose anything. We couldn’t decide, so we, in effect, decided to do nothing and were stuck walking in the rain.
This was not a high-stakes situation, and the consequences weren’t serious. It was just a little rain, an afternoon drink. But it illustrates how otherwise reasonable people can completely seize up, unable to successfully cope with a small change of plans. This situation is all too common. We’re afraid of choosing poorly, so we end up choosing nothing—not because it was the right decision, but because we couldn’t get through the messy middle. We couldn’t move past our overthinking and take action. “Not being able to decide” is a lousy reason not to do something fun, yet it happens every day. When we’re unsure what to do, or feeling tired or overwhelmed, we default to the status quo . . . which means we do nothing.
The consequences may not have been serious that time, but that won’t always be the case. We need to learn to do better.
I have a friend who is a self-professed expert on dipping into bars and restaurants for a drink and a snack. When she travels, she finds great places all over the country to stop and grab a drink or a bite to eat. After my own disappointing experience in New York, I asked her how she chooses where to go on the fly. What’s her secret?
“I do this all the time,” she said, “so it’s second nature now.” She explained that while she’s found a ton of great places on short notice, she’s also visited some real duds. But she’s up for trying just about anything.
“You want my secret?” she asked. “The worst that can happen isn’t that bad. So I just pick something.”
When it’s clear a decision is needed to move forward, the worst thing we can do is not act. Making a choice—any choice—is better than staying stuck debating our options, letting the moment pass us by. The next time you face this kind of decision, try adopting my friend’s mindset. Just pick something, anything. It’s better than doing nothing, and besides, things that don’t unfold according to plan often make the best memories. So what if, instead of resisting these sideways moments, we leaned into the decision, knowing that good things may await us on the other side?
Lean In, Expecting Good Things
Our perspective impacts how well we deal with the situation at hand. When we perceive the stakes to be high, we’re more likely to freeze—especially if we’re prone to perfectionism. When spontaneity strikes (ha!), it’s helpful to purposefully adopt a low-stakes mindset. Instead of striving to choose the ideal option, we can aim to choose a good one, reminding ourselves that the best memories often start with something going wrong. And then, instead of resisting the change of plans, we can lean in, expecting good things. As a bonus, this lowers our anxiety, which makes it easier to decide.
When the power went out at my college, we didn’t feel pressured to maximize our one precious day off. We didn’t stay indoors and debate our options for hours, because we felt like there was no way we could screw it up. Ironically, when we feel pressured to spend our time well, it can be harder to do