Author: Fallton Havenstonne

When I play a game of chess, it involves so many decisions in terms of positional strategy, tactics and thinking about what the opponent is up to. Sometimes I just freeze, and it feels like any move I make will worsen my position or just lead to my being checkmated. That’s how it feels when indecision strikes me. I can’t move. I’m stuck.

Indecision is one of those things that is debilitating and frustrating. It comes out of nowhere, and it feels paralyzing when it happens. It can happen for a wide range of situations, such as what attire to wear, what to eat at a restaurant, what career or major to pursue, buying a home or deciding on a place to rent, etc.

We run decisions through a network of ready-made systems and values. The frustrating part is when none of the systems or values can resolve the problem at hand. When it’s overwhelming, we have to step away from the dilemma, hoping that the solution will come to us somehow (or out of thin air).

Sometimes this works when we realize we just needed more time to think about it. Other times, we need to talk it through with someone–get another perspective–another set of systems and values to relay it through.

We might even pray about it, waiting for the answer to come when we’re not expecting it. Or we might decide to let our gut-instinct settle the matter. Regardless of what the solution is, indecision is a paralyzing, and we don’t want it weighing us down.

It can affect all areas of our life. Not only practical matters, but even our creative choices.

In my case, I struggle with things such as the title, how long a story should be, what the story arcs should be, how to conclude the story, and what the series of events should be, etc. Sometimes the answers are very obvious and don’t take long to figure out. At other times, they seem almost impossible to resolve.

When this happens, I take breaks and walk outside to resolve indecisiveness. I find that when I’m working on a problem head-on, I’m fixated on one method or a set of ineffective methods to find the solution. It’s kind of like trying to figure something out with brute force, when what you need is wit, or as that saying goes, thinking outside the box.

I find a change of scenery helps to alleviate the stress and worry of the indecision. Fresh air often calms the mood, and helps us to analyze the problem without the pressure that’s associated with it. The answer can seem almost obvious afterward, like when we say “why didn’t I think of that?” or “of course!”

And if that doesn’t help, I find that talking about it with someone gives us insights we didn’t have to begin with. It’s as our problem-solving systems and judgment-values weren’t sufficient to solve the problem to begin with. It needed some growing, some additions, refinements, and fine-tuning to improve and enhance our decision-making ability.

And then everything is well and fine until the next indecision . . . .

After an arduous week of work, it’s great to dine out on the weekend with friends or family. Once we’ve found a great restaurant, we know what we want on the menu and what we would like to try. We know what the service is like, as well as the quality of the food and what the prices are.

But to find a great restaurant is a process in itself. Sometimes when we show up at a restaurant we haven’t tried, the waiting time is long (isn’t it crazy when it’s an hour or more!) and who has time to wait that long to be seated?

We can search for restaurants online or hear about them through word of mouth. Reviews online can give us an indication as to what the service and food would be like. But we still need to go to the restaurant and try out the food to really know if it’s good. The experience can be a hit or a miss.

Trying out a restaurant is like taking a gamble on something. We don’t know the result until we try it. But that’s the at the expense of our wallet–and time.

But another question we might ask is if we really need to dine out or if we should dine in? This might depend on our budget, or if we prefer to cook at home. We might prefer to know know where the food came from, as well as how it was cooked.

The decision to dine in or dine out is one where we balance practicality and the yearning to eat outside our home. It’s great to be able to relax and socialize with friends or family at a restaurant if we’re feeling the need to get out of the house/apartment. Also, choosing the right place is important so that our experience isn’t spoiled by poor quality or service.

But it’s also great to eat at home, to put time and care into the preparation of the food we will eat. When we try a recipe for the first time and it turns out great (or maybe after multiple tries), it’s a wonderful sense of joy and accomplishment.

A motif in my book The Birnbaum Case (especially during the dream sequences) are the sounds of nature. By the sounds of nature, I mean the sounds of birds tweeting, critters crawling, grasshoppers chirping, leaves rustling, etc.

When I take walks outside, especially during the summer, these sounds create an ambiance where I become conscious of the diversity of life. They remind me that there are worlds, big and small, taking place behind the scenes, whether they be an insect colony or a bird’s nest.

Even the sound of running water or the grass and leaves rustling from the wind inspire me to extend my time walking. The sounds of nature are active, full of life, compared to the white noise of machines or the soft humming of the A/C vent.

When I’m outdoors, I feel that there is so much to explore and see that’s beyond my ability to grasp. When I look up close at leaves, branches or flowers, I find insects, strange patterns, and qualities that bear something profound and mysterious.

In contrast, when I’m driving on the road or walking inside of a building, I’m focused either on the signs, the music that’s playing (i.e. in the car), the people that are around me, or the architecture/interior design. Moreover, I’m focused on things I need to do or the places I need to go.

But when I’m outside, hearing the sounds of nature silences the noise of my busy world. I’m no longer in a hurry. I can be still and listen.