Growing up, I was always told that I should do what I love. Today, I’m not so sure that’s the most sound piece of advice to give anyone, let alone a young person. But let’s leave this idea on the table and move to a different, but tangential topic: marriage.
Choice in relationships
Twenty and thirty-somethings are increasingly reluctant to make long-term commitments. This reluctance is so common, in fact, that it even has a name: The Paradox of Choice. There have been numerous books and magazine articles written that are related to the phenomenon of people being paralyzed by a perceived abundance of choices before them. One such piece is entitled Why Are You Single? It’s more than worth a quick read, but if you’re the lazy type here’s a snippet that about sums it up:
If you ever listened to your teachers, talked to your parents, or watched Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, you learned that you were a special snowflake and the world was yours for the taking. But for a generation with more options than ever before, how do you choose when you’ve been taught you can have it all?
The article goes on to explore how the perception of infinite choices has the tendency to move an individual to indecision, never choosing at all. One example of such non-decision involved jam.
In 2000, Drs. Sheena S. Iyengar and Mark R. Lepper set up a tasting booth at an upscale grocery store in California. On some days, they put out a selection of six types of jam; on other days they set out twenty-four. Although the wider selection attracted more shoppers, more people bought the jam when there were fewer options. It seemed the more choices people had, the harder it was to make a decision.
In the lives of many adults this indecision is reflected in their romantic relationships. Regarding marriage, I never had this problem of indecision. I met my wife, began dating her and six months later was engaged. Six months after that we were married. That was 7 years ago and I’ve never once regretted it. In my darker moments I blame the brevity of our engagement on my mediocre looks and dull wit. In my brighter moments, however, I can recognize that my wife is truly the most wonderful, beautiful and brilliant woman I’ve ever met. Either way, my choice to marry her was easy.
Choice in careers
Unfortunately, regarding a career, my indecision runs rampant. I’m plagued by thoughts of whether there’s something out there that could somehow fulfill me more than my current job. I start thinking of all the other jobs on Earth and how perfect my life would be if I just had that “other.” But this, I’m beginning to realize, is a mirage.
The fact of the matter is I can’t have “any” job. More than that, I wouldn’t be good at “any” job. There are a limited number of vocations which I would be even remotely capable of doing. And of those few there are perhaps one or two I would actually enjoy. I suppose in once sense it would be nice if I could know whether or not I’d love a job 30 years down the road, but logically that would be impossible.
What if I had put off marrying my wife until I knew I’d feel a certain way when I’m 70? I’d have never gotten married and I’d be missing out on all the blessings my wife and our family brings me. Furthermore, it would be grossly irresponsible to base important decisions on a feeling. Love is a choice.
I know basically what I enjoy. I know basically what I’m capable of. I must stop the constant, paralyzing indecision regarding my career. Instead of endlessly, vainly seeking that “one career that will complete me”; that one job that I will absolutely fall in love with forever, let me learn to chose to love what I do.