When was the last time you asked yourself “What if”?
When was the last time you asked yourself “What if?”
I work with a lot of people who routinely find themselves in the mental swirl of asking what if, what if.
What if I hadn’t taken this job?
What if I had left this job sooner?
What if I take this job and I don’t like it?
What if I stay here and it isn’t what I want it to be?
(Interestingly, these questions rarely sound like “What if I’m wildly successful?” or “What if I’m thrilled I said yes?”.)
Longing for certainty is a common pursuit of human existence. As in most things related to humanity, the need for certainty runs on a spectrum. Some people can exist with tremendous uncertainty and still get a refreshing 8 hours of sleep; but most people can’t. Instead, they hand-wring and wonder, toss and turn, question and calculate.
In the 90s Gwyneth Paltrow movie Sliding Doors, the central character’s life breaks in two. The story follows her down two totally different life trajectories, each depending on whether she misses or catches a train. I thought about it recently when helping a client, a seasoned executive contemplating her next move. She was trying to figure out how to spend a previously earmarked month off. She wondered: Do I want to at long last give myself a seriously-overdue break, or – 0r – with the voice of uncertainty creeping into her ear, do I want to stay plugged in just in case that perfect opportunity surfaces during this designated month. I could see her telling herself, with increasing intensity, I really don’t want to miss the train.
The wonder of what if is real, and it often holds people hostage. Vectoring toward certainty, to be able to have total clarity of picture, is not only impossible, it’s paralyzing. Undoubtedly, there is value in information gathering – to the point where you can recognize you’re making genuinely informed decisions. After that, you’ve just gotta let go.
That thing to let go of is FOMO. Fear Of Missing Out: a new(ish) word for an old anxiety. People on professional tracks are prone to looking both ways, backwards and forwards, looking for dots to connect. The reality is that we never do get to be sure of ourselves by playing out both choices, both stories simultaneously.
Chief People Officer at Cityblock Health and Former Head of Talent and Culture at Audible, Ara Tucker (and someone whose posts I love to read) recently opened a post with the question: Have you ever wished you could be a different version of yourself? Her response articulates some of her journey towards self-acceptance and trusting in yourself to approach things authentically even when you feel like you don’t quite fit, and didn’t quite know which route to take.
The same guidance holds true here. Take stock of who you are and the opportunities you seek. When you get to the proverbial fork in the road, instead of avoiding the decision, or trying to somehow navigate both routes to retain optionality, dig into what really matters to you, hold your breath and take the leap. During the time you’re spending paralyzed, other trains are passing.
For what it’s worth, the ultimate point of Sliding Doors was, both versions were fine. Both stories were rich with rewards and setbacks, life in all its kaleidoscopic options. Through the course of our careers, and life generally, we know this to be true: sometimes we catch the train, sometimes we don’t. In and of itself, it’s neither good nor bad: just another story unfolding.