Made a really, really tough decision this week. One that would probably shock people.
Shelley and I almost..... almost..... almost decided to buy a house and move out of our current one.
Say what?
Yeah, it's true.
We absolutely love our current house. It was terrific when we bought it - dramatic on the inside, and stunning on the outside. We've updated and improved the inside, which is almost 3200 square feet. The outside drew us to the house in the first place - almost 1/3 of an acre, immaculately landscaped, with an outdoor kitchen on a covered deck, and a beautiful salt-water pool. A small look at the backyard is below.
But we've been quietly looking for something that might be just as nice, and more appropriate as we watch the calendar flip over month after month. (Or, in electronic terms, as it scrolls to the right.) The fact is, trudging to the second floor of our house isn't always easy on aging knees, and for as beautiful as the backyard is, it's a tremendous amount of work..... most of which Shelley does.
A few days ago we found an amazing house - a single-story which is beautiful inside, the right size, with an amazing integrated video/audio/climate control/lighting/security system, and a nice (albeit much smaller) property with a pool, outdoor grill/bar area, and more. The money seemed to be about right, and we even verbally made an offer which seemed like it would have been accepted.
But we changed our mind. Or really, we flip-flopped several times over the course of 2 days. And then, finally it was me who said "no". In simplest terms, I felt the location wasn't right, and I had a couple of concerns about the property which I won't elaborate on.
Was it a unanimous decision? No. But give Shelley immense, immense credit. She acknowledged to me that she'd already been "putting the furniture in the rooms"...... but aside from a few questions, she quickly put this behind her. No anger on her part. No pouting.
Okay, a little pouting.
But this note isn't really about the house. It's about the decision, or really, the difficulty and consequences of making tough decisions.
I'm a strong, strong believer that by the time someone reaches my age, their stock in life is a product of their decisions. Good decisions, bad decisions. This might seem naive, but for the vast majority of people, there really are only a couple of things which are completely out of their control - those being (1) their pure, native talents and intelligence; and (2) the environment they are born and raised in. Virtually everything else that comes after it is a choice - how hard one works in school, what kind of activities they participate in, even their friends and the type of people they hang out with. Later, it translates to things such as where they go to college, do they focus on school or partying, and such. And obviously, their choice of spouses, places to live, etc.....
And usually, the best decisions are the toughest decisions. Meaning, you either have to give something up which you really want, or move into the unknown, or do something which is extremely uncomfortable.
I pretty much hate making tough decisions. Even when forced to choose between great options, such as the two beautiful properties, I struggle, waffle, and try to avoid them. Heck, it's hard for me to figure out what to order when I go to a restaurant with more than 6 entreés - I'm supposed to decide where to live?
But just because I don't particularly enjoy making tough choices doesn't mean that I take the easy path. Fact is, I've taken some big risks and ventured "deep into the unknown" on more than one occasion..... and usually, those risks were the ones that paid off in spades.
Probably the two biggest "professional" decisions I made took high leaps of faith. The first - despite being content working for IBM in New York, I left behind a pretty decent salary, moved nearly 3000 miles away (to a state where I literally knew only one person), and enrolled in business school...... knowing that I was probably going to leave school with huge student loans, and hopefully a decent chance at a job.
Yep, that worked out.
Many years later, I decided to leave my job and join a company that was nearly 150 miles away from my home, implying that I would be extending (for an indefinite amount of time) the "nomadic" existence I had been briefly doing..... meaning that I would leave home ridiculously early on Monday mornings, not see Shelley for around 4 days, and have to manage a second household, while working anywhere from 50-80 hours a week and balancing international travel along the way.
Wow...... that one worked out well. So well that I don't feel pressed to quickly search for gainful employment again.
Have I been lucky? Sure. Things have usually gone smoothly for me when I've entered the unknown. It doesn't for everybody, I know that. But when that happens, you make a decision to move on, and execute.
Conversely, I've seen a lot of people afraid to take risks..... whether it's re-location, changing companies, walking away from relationships that are dysfunctional, or something else, I've seen a ton of people who "soldier on". In simplest terms, they've taken the path of least resistance, and then been miserable. Or worse, express jealousy or resentment at others (such as myself) who "find themselves" in a better position. "Find themselves" is in quotations, because in my experience, most folks who are in the better positions got there through hard work and making difficult, risky decisions when paid off.
Risk vs. reward. The axiom still holds. The highest risk decisions usually lead to the highest rewards.
Take a risk. Make the hard call.
As for me, I'm just happy with a tremendous decision that I benefitted from.
The amazing woman who I've been with for over 18 years chose me.
Boy, was I lucky with that decision.