Leaps of Faith

I have been known to have flights of indecisiveness, particularly when it comes to things that don’t really matter or have little consequence. Chicken or steak for dinner? Cous cous or pasta? The blue sweater or the black one? Paper or plastic?

See what I mean?

But when it comes to life’s big decisions, e.g. buying a house, picking an oncologist, I have laser-like focus. When I watch shows like “House Hunters,” which you all know I love, I usually recommend that the buyers purchase the first house they see as it always seems perfect for the family. Why do these people need to see more houses? To see if something better exists? Who knows. All I know is that when it comes to the big decisions, I jump in head first.

Maybe I trust my intuition. Or maybe I’m just crazy. (No answer required.)

Malcolm Gladwell summed this type of thinking up in “Blink,” in which he asserts that all major decisions can be made within the first two seconds of looking. Basically, the less—but better—input we have, the better equipped we are to make the right decisions about just about anything. Interesting concept.

I was thinking about this the other day because I have been mulling over getting a new dog. You all know how much I love my little Westie, Bonnie, but sometimes I feel like she’s lonely. The kids are at school all day, as is Jim, and I’m up in the attic all day, a place she only dares to venture up to if she’s got a burst of energy. After all, it’s three floors up, and the loveseat is nice and comfy and warm. Worried about her mental health, I’ve spent a few minutes searching Petfinder.com, where with a couple of search words, you can find the dog of your dreams in an instant. If I had gone with my initial instinct, with the blessing of my husband, of course, I probably would have already adopted a dog. But I have made the mistake of having everyone weigh in and of course, have heard my share of “bad dog” stories which has led me off the path of dog adoption and onto the path of showing Bonnie more love so that she doesn’t get any lonelier.

Yes, getting a new dog is a big decision, but is it really that big a decision? Jim and I saw five houses and made offers on two. I’ve been known to walk into a car dealership and walk out with a new car. I have made decisions that come with a host of possible negative consequences in an instant. Try this new melanoma clinical trial even though you may have ulcerative colitis or the rest of your life? Where do I sign?

So I am trying not to over think it. All of the major decisions that I’ve made in my life have been made in a split second and they have all turned out incredibly well. Heck—I decided to quit my job while driving over the bridge from work one night just because it was a beautiful night and the sun was hitting the Hudson a certain way. That was a great decision and I’ve never looked back. The only difference between that decision and the dog decision is that these other decisions might not have come with the predilection for barking or urinating on the floor. Or worse.

I’m going to stop thinking about this for a while. If the time is right, and Jim buys in, I’ll head to a shelter to see if someone begs me with their eyes to take them home.

Right now, however, I have bigger decisions to make as lunch is approaching. Peanut butter or chicken soup?

Maggie Barbieri