CHOICE: Don't we always have it?

I believe that we are solely responsible for our choices, and we have to accept the consequences of every deed, word, and thought throughout our lifetime.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

I’ve made a choice to write about choice and it’s giving me a severe case of indecision.  In fact, I feel as Tommy Cooper allegedly quipped, ‘I used to be indecisive but now I’m not quite sure.’  Yesterday morning I heard a politician groaning about the financial problems of the NHS, stating plaintively, ‘The money has to come from somewhere. We have to make a choice.’   Grateful as I am not to be a politician dealing with the NHS budget, making a choice is a problem common to us all!  But then we have to make a decision, based on that choice.

Choosing a house or a car, big items for me, are easy-peasy. The work of a few seconds, the essential consideration being one of sheer hard cash.  No, you can’t have  a flat in Knightsbridge or a Porsche Cayenne on a Peugeot budget.  However, I  suspect the quote above is  steering us in quite a different direction.  It’s pushing us into the sneaky underbelly of our thought system, an area many of us would prefer not to visit.  But willing or not, eventually we’re usually obliged to take a trip there.  And frankly, there’s precious little space for  wiggle-room.

Any morning a  simple scenario can pop up.  Shall I  switch off the alarm and grab another moment’s sleep? Or shall I get up now?  Shall I order the logs today? Or do it next week?  Shall I put petrol in the car en route to the market? No, wait,  the next garage may be cheaper. And so forth.  Lightweight choices, relatively speaking and simple decisions.

Every choice we make, no matter how trivial, has a consequence.  You go back to sleep, you don’t have time to order the logs and you can’t stop to put petrol in your car  at the cheaper garage because it’s unexpectedly closed.  On the way home, the weather changes, you’ve still not ordered the logs, the car’s almost out of petrol and you have to fill up at the most expensive station.   And this is the moment we’re inclined to mutter inwardly as we hand over our credit card, ‘I didn’t really have a choice.’  It’s a human fall-back position and a tricky one.  Which is where the quote above comes in.

We actually make life-affecting choices every single day.  The really big,heavy ones, are concerned with relationships, health and where you live.  Deciding to stay with a partner or leave? Follow a rigorous medical-advised course of treatment with possible side effects? Or not?  Move school? Move house?  Or move country? These are all huge, seriously life changing choices that many of us are faced with at some point.   How we choose and how we decide can be crucial.

But what all choices have in common, be they major or minor, is that they’re based on what we’re thinking at the time.  We’re influenced by our parents, our education, our children, our past experience, our best friend’s opinions, advertising, the money we have or don’t have, our mood of the day.  Even, indeed the weather!  At varying levels and at varying times, scores of thoughts and ideas play their part.  Whether our choice turns out well or badly, whether it’s a cause for regret or for satisfaction, as adults we have to carry the can.

We have to be responsible for our choices and their consequences.   I’ve struggled with this because, with the wondrous wisdom of hindsight, sometimes the big choices I’ve made have not turned out well. I suspect I’m not alone here!  But accepting responsibility for them is actually liberating.  As I got older, I made a very clear choice about one thing.  I wanted to avoid becoming a ‘victim’ of anything or anybody. If we succumb to ‘habit energy’  and regularly accord blame to another person, or even events, we trap ourselves.  At least I’ve found that to be true for me.

When I need to make a choice, especially of a major kind, I remind myself I’m in charge of my thoughts.  No one else is.  Just me.  Consequently, I need clarity about what I am thinking.  Or not!  Sometimes the daftest things I’ve ever done were simply because I didn’t think clearly.  Or because I was scared.  Or, a very tricky one, trying to please others.  Nowadays, I  have to discipline myself to find a measure of tranquillity and assess what would be the best route to follow. Ruthless honesty is required!  If the choice I’ve made and the decision I’m going to take leaves me even a tad uneasy, I know it’s back to base once more.  I  have to wait and meditate on it again.  I’ll freely admit it’s a laborious process at times!

But when suddenly I find myself taking a deep breath and realising that there are no butterflies, no hovering jinxes, and a cheering sense of, ‘Aha, that’s the way to go,’ then probably it is the way.  I’ll be able to take the consequences for the choice. And  the decision.  And not have guilt.  Like Edith Piaf, I’ll be able to say (if not sing!), ‘Je ne regrette rien.’