You’re going to make lots of decisions in your life. Hard ones, easy ones, impossible ones, and ones that aren’t really decisions at all. Sometimes, you’ll make a good decision. Sometimes, you’ll make a bad decision. This entry is not about how to make better decisions or how to avoid bad decisions. No, this one’s about the importance of actually making decisions. Or, in the words of Yogi Berra:
“When you get to a fork in the road, take it.”
I applied to three graduate film school programs while I was a senior in college and got into none of them. So, I got a job at Capital One in Richmond, VA, bought some khakis, and went to work. Hated it. Not for me. And after a year of working there, I re-applied to eight or nine schools and got into The University of Miami. Meanwhile, I fell in love. And suddenly, I didn’t want to leave Richmond. What did I do? I made a series of very bad decisions that culminated in one very good decision.
The first bad decision was thinking I had a decision to make. The girl I’d fallen in love with had just broken up with me, but I was convinced that I could rearrange my life and plans and somehow make her take me back and make it work. I was very, very wrong, and in hindsight, that was a shit decision. Really, in any sight, that was a shit decision.
Now, at this point I’d tell you there’s a great lesson that my boss, Chris, tried to share with me, “Don’t make big life decisions for a girl you’re not married to.” Problem is, your Mom and I decided to move to Nashville together before we were engaged, and most certainly before we were married. And while it seems those two are in conflict, here’s the difference. Your Mom and I made those plans together, and while we hadn’t tied the knot yet, we were both in our 30’s and experienced enough to know what we were doing. So, let me rephrase his advice. “Don’t make big life decisions for a person you’re not married to unless the conditions are right and they’re on board with your decision.” The girl that I tried to change my grad school plans for was definitely not on board. I was just too stubborn to listen.
Back to my school decisions. I withdrew my application to the University of Miami, but still hated my job. What now? I applied to and got into a Masters program at VCU (located in Richmond) for creative writing. The girl in question had not changed her mind, but I would still be in town so I felt like my plan to win her back was moving along.
This is when I started having anxiety attacks. At work, I couldn’t sit still and actually work. At home, I couldn’t relax. It’s hard to explain how miserable I was, but it felt like drowning in a pit of bad decisions where I could only see bad outcomes. Every choice was the wrong one, but I couldn’t see clear to actually make one and stick with it. I spent hours on the phone with people I trusted, asking them if I was doing the right thing. Looking back, this was my chronic depression and anxiety rearing its head for the first time. But I was also about to make a big mistake, and I think on some level, I knew it.
Before my change of heart and withdrawal from Miami, I bought a non-refundable plane ticket to go visit Miami and find a place to live. Since I couldn’t get my money back, I decided to go visit friends down there instead. That might have been one of the hardest flights I’ve ever taken; as soon as we backed away from the jetway, the weight of all my choices buried me. I was certain I’d made a terrible mistake, and I felt just how much I wanted to go to film school.
Before I tell you how it ends, let’s go back to Yogi Berra. “When you get to a fork in the road, take it.” One night while I agonized over the phone to my Dad about this decision, that was exactly what he said to me.
See, the misery lies in the deciding. Once you make your decision and set out on your way, you’re free to focus your energy forward instead of worrying about which path to take. I had made a decision, unmade that decision, made a different decision, and was about to unmake that decision so I could go back to my initial decision. Why did I feel like I was drowning? Because I was. I kept diving back into the rushing current of indecision instead of choosing a bank of the river, getting out, and getting on with the shit I needed to do.
I made some calls when I landed and managed to get myself re-admitted to film school. Your Nana and Papa were incredibly supportive and helped me move, find a place to live, and get where I needed to be. And that girl I thought I was in love with? We dated long-distance for a while but eventually broke it off. These were the choices I should have made the first time, and thankfully they were the choices I eventually made. In some ways, these choices made themselves.
Now, just imagine how much suffering I could have saved myself had I made my choice, looked forward to the life I had before me, and stuck with it. That’s my advice. Hold tight to the courage of your convictions. Your first choice is often the right one. Gather the information you can, consider your options, and make a decision. And then, see those decisions through.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.