Category: Decisions

Making (restaurant) decisions easier — a quick sketch.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Binary Decisions Restaurant Menu, by Sarah Peck

I was sitting at a restaurant not too long ago, reading through another incredibly long list of options, both overwhelmed and exasperated by the choices in front of me. I just want something good to eat! I thought. I don’t want to read everything and choose. My analytically-focused brain, however, often prompts me to read every single option before making a decision, because I want to be sure that I’ve made the best decision.

This got me thinking, however, about how we make decisions, decision paradoxes, and how to design menus that are easy for the user, not the sender. It’s not enough to put all the information onto a page. What if we designed a menu that took into account the psychology of how we make decisions?

A quick sketch later, and my sister and I brainstormed a menu that presented only binary options. You decide between a series of two choices, until you arrive at three or fewer options for what you might select to eat. For example, look at “start here.” You have two options — deciding between the “vegetarian/fish” side and the “meat” side. Once you pick a side, go up if you want fish, down if you want veggie. Then continue to select until you pick what you want to eat. Check it out, above.

Restaurant menus, like many, many other consumer interfaces, are typically designed with the first intent of giving the user all of the necessary information. Secondarily, a higher-end restaurant might layer in sophisticated-looking fonts, higher-quality papers and other polishes that make the menu look and feel in accordance with the brand. But what about a menu that understands the way that human brains work? That understands–and incorporates–human psychology and decision-making into the design itself?

This probably goes for other menus, too. (Such as the menu on your website, or the number of options you give people in company packages). Apple is well-known for making decisions simpler (at least they were).This menu was also inspired by a brilliant waitress that was able to nail what I wanted by closing the menu in front of me and asking me three questions (Meat or Veggie? Sweet or Salty? Carb side or veggie side?) and proceeded to give me two options for things I thought were delicious. Yes, please!

I’d love for someone to riff off of this, too. Take it–and make a better one. Make it more clear. What would you change? Would this make your decision-making easier?

 

Are You Over Thinking?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Sometimes the answer is just doing it.

Not thinking about doing it. Not writing about doing it. Not talking about doing it. And not waiting on it, or giving it more time.

Sometimes you just need to do it.

Anticipation can be deadly. Every time I have to jump into cold water or a cold pool, I can’t think about it too much. The more I think about it, the longer it takes to do it. The longer I think about it, the harder it gets to pull the trigger. The longer I think about it, the less time I spend actually doing it, and the more time I spend lost in thinking about it. The worst part is always the first three minutes as my body acclimates to the change in temperature from the outside air to the colder pool. And magically, after those three minutes, the sting wears off and I even begin to forget those moments pre-cold. Adaptation happens quickly. We forget our fears the minute we go ahead and get started.

The worst part is starting. Scratch that. Sometimes the worst part is the anticipation of starting. Sometimes the worst part is all that dang thinking you do before you start doing what you really need to just be doing. It’s all that thinking about starting that can paralyze you.

Quit that thinking.

The antidote to anticipation is action.

The hardest part can be just getting started.

Just One

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

What would just one of something look like?

Not a diversity of items, but a simplicity of things. A specificity, a selection, and a deliberate choice between several?

Not three workout programs, but just one workout program.
Not seven yoga mats or towels, but just one.
Not eight new dresses or blouses, but just one. Your favorite one.
Not two sets of bedding, but just one.
Not four new books, but just one.
Not three bedrooms, but just one bedroom.
Not two cars, but just one car.
Instead of two sets of tablewear, just one set.
Instead of eight dreams, just one dream to work on.

Sometimes I get caught in the trap of needing more. I have a brown pair of boots, but now I need a black one. I have a black pair, but now I need a tan one. And I need a pair of rain boots. Four pairs of boots? Do I need four pairs of boots?

What would just one look like?

[Or none at all?]

Boldness is Genius. Do it. Decide.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.”

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”

– J. W. von Goethe

Decisions are hard. Very hard.

The word “decision” is based on the Latin “decisio,” which means a cutting off. The verb is decidere, to cut off, (“de” is off; “caedere” is to cut). You can see the root repeated in other familiar words: scissors, incision, caesarean section.  Michael Ellsberg, in his book, The Education of Millionaires, recounts the work of Randy Komisar and his thoughts on playing it safe versus taking risks.

“The words “decision,” and “decide” stem from the roots “cise” and “cide,” to cut off and to kill, also the roots of manhy other words related to cutting and killing.”

“People feel like, unless they’re affirmatively making a decision, they’re not making a decision.”

We think that we’re safer, less risky, when we don’t cut off any possibilities. And so many of us sit, waifish, reluctant to decide because we are afraid of killing one of our options. We are afraid of the bloody battle that making a decision requires. We think that the alternative–not deciding–is safer, more secure. If we don’t decide to quit, to act, to disagree with someone, then we’ll be happier, somehow.

Yet there is a huge risk in not deciding:

Not making a decision is making a decision. 

As time winds its way past you, your indecisiveness kills both of the options you once had, leaving you sitting on the site of the path, empty-handed. Not deciding is deciding. Not deciding is the death of both options. It’s not saving the life of both options.

Sure, there are risks of taking action. But there are also huge risks of inaction. To quote Ellsberg, these risks include:

“The risk of working with people you don’t respect; the risk of working for a company whose values are incosistent with your own; the risk of compromising what’s important; the risk of doing something that fails to express-or even contradicts–who you are. And then there is the most dangerous risk of all–the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet that you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.”

It’s not easy. You need to cut off part of yourself, close doors, and eliminate options. It’s painful. It’s hard. It’s why so many people opt to avoid making decisions. It’s why, when we’re presented with an incredible number of options, we’ll often choose to leave and “come back later,” because we don’t want to make the wrong decision. It’s why marketers and salespeople are realizing the genius of offering fewer options.

Because people are terrible at making decisions. 

What are you risking by being afraid of not deciding?

We stand there, wistfully, at the fork in the path and dwell on the option we’re leaving behind, the places and spaces that could have been. But unless we decide to act, to make a decision, to cut one path and choose the other, then we’re not gaining from either option in front of us. No: we’re just sitting there, hands tied in the grassy meadow, staring at unfinished possibilities.

Deciding is powerful. It is terrifying. It is beautiful. Kill something today. Cut it out. Drop it. Remove it. Make clarity in choosing, by saying No to the part you don’t want.  Say Yes to the things you want to keep. Do something.

“Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.” 

“Begin now.”

With love,

 

Why Do Cars Have Brakes?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

“The more sure we are, the more likely we are to suffer an illusion.” – Jerry Weinberg

Why do automobiles have brakes?

To stop, right?

To stop. That’s one answer.

Is there another answer? I heard this on the radio recently, and I jotted it down in my mental notebook.

Cars have brakes so they can go fast.

It’s the ability to stop quickly that allows us to travel at speeds much faster than if we didn’t have brakes.

Without brakes, we’d all drive very, very slowly. Brakes give us flexibility in stopping when you want, where you want, and how you want.

Analogously, in your life it’s the very presence of boundaries that create new freedoms. Freedom isn’t free. (Similarly paradoxical, having choice isn’t what helps us in decision-making.) Having a gas pedal isn’t what enables you to go fast. It’s having a gas pedal AND a brake pedal.

Sometimes the short-term sacrifices in our lives are actually enabling us to achieve long-term goals. Your brakes are helping you go faster, even if it’s frustrating to stop at the stop sign.

Also to note: how you answered this question clues you into how your brain operates when thinking about actions, functions, and relationships among systems. Thinking that brakes brake; and that’s all, is a limited view on the capability of a function in a system. Often, each action or movement has multiple effects in the system.

How can you train your brain to look again and see if you can find other answers? It’s very Jerry Weinberg (author of An Introduction to General Systems Thinking.)

The next time you do something, ask yourself how it works. And ask yourself, is that the only thing happening here?

Probably not.

So, why do cars have brakes?

“The boundary of one thing is often the beginning of another” – Leonardo

A Little Bit Is A Lot.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Feels like I just touched down in San Francisco and turned around and took off again! After getting back in town after last week’s working vacation, I’m off again to Dallas and then Austin, Texas for work, conferences and a weekend in Austin. I’m looking forward to seeing a lot of new and familiar faces in the crowds. 

If you missed it, yesterday there was a great post on Chris Guillebeau’s blog following up on the one page career cheat-sheet from last month, where Chris asked me a few questions about what it means to be happy at your job, and what tools you can use to change your situation if you’re stuck somewhere and you’re not sure what to do.

In thinking about change, however, it’s also good to remember that it can be slow at first, and sometimes not much seems like it’s happening. I get it. It can be frustrating. I’ve been there over and over again, and often I want to bang my head against the wall and ask, “why is nothing happening!??” Sometimes I get so frustrated or scared, I give up. But it’s really important to keep going. Here’s one essay I was drafting last week in my notebooks on this very subject. 

A little is a lot.

I procrastinate–sometimes, a lot, I’m afraid to admit–and the bigger a goal or dream of mine is, the worse this habit is. I’ll even throw in some productive things to do in lieu of tackling the big, scary goal or project. When I set my sights too far away from my current state, I can render myself helpless, weak, scared, or terrifically frightened.

It ends up feeling something like this:

 

In terms of growth, we often have unreasonable expectations for ourselves to scale huge walls in quantum leaps without respect for the time and energy it takes to really do what we want to do.

And when I stagnate–when I procrastinate, delay, or avoid doing something because the something I’ve chosen is just too big–then I end up doing nothing.

Isn’t that worse?

As a constant reminder, I find that there’s a general rule of thumb I keep in my pocket for whenever I feel so scared that I want to procrastinate:

A little bit is a lot.

And along those lines:

If it’s too big to do, make what you’re trying to do today smaller.

Case in point: I was working on the designs for a 200-page document. Each time I thought about working on it, I didn’t have the time, energy, or brain space to consider editing the entire document. So I procrastinated–a lot more than I’d like to admit. I tried to break it down into chunks–Sarah, do 50 pages at a time. Unfortunately, the chunks were still too big. I was too tired at the days’ end to do several more hours of work, so I ended up putting it off some more.

I reminded myself: what’s the smallest step, the littlest bit that I can do to make a dent in the pile? 10 pages? 5 pages? even just 1 page? And so I started, telling myself that a few pages was okay. It was enough to get me to start the project again.

And then I sat and did 30 pages. And the next day, another 20 pages. Slowly, steadily, I did make progress on it–by not making myself overwhelmed by trying to tackle too much.

If there’s something you’re afraid of, or you’re putting of, and you’re still not working on it–maybe make your expectations for today even smaller.

Growth is about incremental change.

Something like this is more appropriate:

Breathe.

Yes, a little step is really a lot.

Just take a little step, every day.

 ###


I is for Integrity.

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

I was asked to write about Integrity as part of Molly Mahar’s “Blog Crawl” on self-love this February. Today’s post is part of Stratejoy’s The ABC’s of Self Love Blog Crawl + Treasure Hunt. Molly’s series is part of her bigger program called The Fierce Love Course. I had a chance to meet with Molly in San Diego last fall and see her amazing work first-hand, and I was delighted to be picked to post as part of this series.

I is for Integrity.

“Integrity is not achieved, attained, or accomplished. Integrity, like character, is built through quiet persistence, a structural consistency in all that you say, do, and believe.” 

“To have integrity is to believe fully in your soul, and your being. It is to act in accordance with yourself, and accept nothing less.”

Continual Motion.

I’m sweating. Breathing hard. I’ve got my leg over my shoulder, and my knee is creaking. My hand is slipping, slowly, against the rubbery mat surface and I can hear seventeen other students also breathing hard. I’m trying to get into a new space, move towards a new pose in my yoga class, and I can’t figure out if I’m going to be able to get there today. Leftover alcohol and chlorine equally permeate my sweat, and I curse having spent a week and a half doing nothing – why didn’t I say in shape? – I mutter. I forget it, letting the thought slide out of my brain easily. I’m here now. This is good. This feels good. But bad. Good lord, does this feel bad. Awful in a stretching, pulling kind of way. Unglamorous.

I drop my head, lifting my left hand quickly off the mat to wipe sweat from my face. Drops fall from my face to the mat, making it more slippery, less sticky. Damn.

And my leg slides, centimeters, stretching again, and all of a sudden I can point my toes. I feel it, a balanced, taught centeredness, muscles working together. My hands are aligned below me, my chest is centered squarely above me, my bones stacking neatly, my legs pointing towards opposite walls.

It’s graceful, but exertion doesn’t stop. Sweat keeps dripping. I’m still moving. I’m either working towards the pose or relaxing, dropping from it.

Movement, the teacher intones. It’s all about movement. You’re constantly moving, constantly shifting, always realigning and re-centering.

Yes.

“Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.”

Commitment.

We made a commitment at the beginning of class, a small devotion to ourselves and our practice, and we chose a phrase or a word to stick to for the night. A set of words to recall when our brains freeze in mindless chatter, when our thoughts dart outside of the room and into the future or past, worrying needlessly about all things could-have and should-have and might-have and would-have. The words bring our loose cannons back to alignment, briefly, like five-year-olds in a small class, restlessly bopping about while waiting for lunchtime.

My commitment, my word, my phrase – how do I pick a word? I mused over independence, over writing, over being, over gratitude. My frazzled brain did it again, tumbling through a thousand thoughts, looking for a life-line and a mantra to relax into. Words float in: blessings, health, kindness, of being kind and grateful for everything, of releasing the relentless pressure I build up in myself to achieve and to do and to be. And then I my mind, like my body, stumbles onto a phrase that settles nicely in my mind, a gentle kindness that pulls towards a longer form of being, an integrity. “Move towards,” the voice told me: “Move towards your goals. Move towards integrity.”

Movement, this idea, resonates: there’s no need for a valiant, chest-puffing stake in the ground, a moment in time that says, I WILL DO THIS! As though now that I have shouted it, it is and it will be! (Insert multiple exclamation points). It is quieter, more peaceful, more consistent. It’s a set of actions, a layered being, a nuanced commitment to yourself over time.

Moving towards integrity.

“Character is not what you say, it is not what you boast. It is what you do when no one is watching.”

What is integrity? 

Integrity is knowing what you stand for. It is showing consistency in your actions and having a soundness of moral character. Integrity is doing what you say you’re going to do, even when no one is watching.

Integrity is being accountable to yourself.

In buildings, structural integrity means that the building will stand up – that the components, the joints, the system at play is sound and built well; that it won’t deteriorate or break down over time. It is a consistency and standard of excellence in engineering.

Some definitions include “the state of being unimpaired; soundness,” or another: “the quality or condition of being whole or undivided; completeness.”

 “ You can’t build a reputation on what you’re going to do” – Henry Ford

For me, integrity is living up to my expectations of myself. It’s upholding both my thoughts and actions; it’s  behaving my best, even during the worst situations. It’s going to the gym, even if I don’t want to, because I made a commitment to myself. It’s planning ahead, giving someone grace when it’s due, it’s standing up for myself, it’s for chasing after your dreams even if no one else knows what you are up to. It’s believing in yourself and your dreams, and holding yourself accountable for acting in accordance with the best that you can be.

The opposite is also true.

We’ve all screwed up. Royally, beautifully, messily, fantastically. If we were perfect already, I suppose that would be boring. We mess up. We’re human. The difference is in how you decide to behave. What you choose to do before, during, afterwards. Whether or not you are capable of repairing a situation.

Integrity is not a stake in the ground. It’s not a goal that’s achieved. It’s a consistency of action, over time, that builds in what you say, believe, and do.

You’ve probably encountered situations where someone or something lacked integrity.

Perhaps it was you.

I’ve been there.

Last year, in Paris, traveling with my sister, I found one (of many) weaknesses in my character through exploring new settings, circumstances, and places. In particular, I found I had to question my ability to make decisions and what I thought was true about myself. I got beautifully, horribly conned in Monte Martre, duped into doing something, and I was rattled by the change in my behavior in the given context. More alarming than losing dozens of Euros was the red glaring flag hitting itself loudly against my conscience:

Do I really make good decisions? Am I what I think I am? Or am I actually just all talk? I babbled as such to my sister as we walked up to the top of the Sacre Coure, wondering how I could have wandered down a spiral of decision points that led to very silly—and alarming—behaviors.

Yet all was not lost: dissonance is good. Dissonance reminds us when our behaviors and actions aren’t in line with what we believe to be true about ourselves. Moments of discomfort tell us when we’re not behaving in accordance with who we truly are. The act of testing, of being, of doing–these are the moments that matter.

You’re not perfect. You’ll mess up. I’ve found that time and again, I test my integrity and sometimes fall short. Each time, I have to stop and analyze, wondering: what am I? Is this what I want to be? Do I like this?

Why does it matter?

Does it matter? You can brush it under the rug, sweep it away, think, “Oh Sarah, who cares!” – but it matters. It’s not about what other people think, say or believe about you.

At the end of the day, you’re the one that has to live with you. You’re there when you wake up, when you breathe, when you think, when you act.

I’m the one who has to sleep with myself at night; I’m the one who wakes up when I can’t stand how I’ve behaved; I’m the one who runs away from my emotions at times. It’s all just me.

And at the end of the day, if you don’t stand up for yourself, who will?

If you don’t do what you say you will—not for anyone else, but for yourself—then you lose trust in yourself. If you can’t keep your own word to yourself, and do what it is that you say you’re going to do, then what good is your word?

“Wisdom is knowing what to do next; virtue is doing it.” –David Star Jordan

What does integrity look like? What does it feel like?

“I never had a policy. I have just tried to do my very best each and every day.” – Abraham Lincoln 

The things I’m proudest of aren’t the big goals, the declarations, the accomplishments. They are perpetual works of art, things I’m continuing to move towards. A quiet integrity, the knowledge that each action is cumulative, and that with each effort, exertion, breathe and stance, I’m working towards becoming what I say I want to become.

And from yoga, standing next, upright with my leg straight out, foot held in my hand, my upper thigh quivering with tension, my hamstrings stretched to their maximum, my opposite leg shaking silently in exertion. This is the act of standing, of balancing, an act of perpetual motion. Of persistent strain. Of forces, acting in opposition, continual moving back and forth against each other.

Tracy Chapman plays in the background: “… All you have is your soul,” she sings, deep and rich. She’s right. You’re all you’ve got. You know what you are capable of. And you know when you don’t live up to what you could be.

The most beautiful poses in yoga, in life, in being–are actually those of endless motion, of shifting and moving and realigning. Even in the long stretches, the folds and the bends, the fibers in our muscular systems shift and lengthen, releasing millimeters, day by day, until one day we wake up with our face against our knees and wonder,

Well, shit.

How did I get here?  

###

This post is part of Molly Mahar of Stratejoy’s “Blog Crawl” for self-love this February. Find out more about The ABC’s of Self Love Blog Crawl + Treasure Hunt here. Check out the previous authors and their thoughts on self-love, here:  

The ABC’s of Self-Love:

A is for Acceptance by Molly Mahar: “Luckily, accepting who I am is more than embracing my (gorgeous, quirky, messy) imperfections. It’s also about celebrating my strengths, admiring my awesome, appreciating my honor.”

B is for Beauty by Rebecca Bass-Ching: “I now revel in the awe-inspiring beauty of courage, generosity, gentleness, kindness, sacrificial love, compassion, vulnerability, motherhood and respect.”

C is for Celebration by Dani: “Stand in front of the mirror and point out all the things you love about yourself. Instant self-love!”

D is for Determination by Ash Ambirge: “Want success? Make more decisions, choose more often, gain more control, and then take responsibility over your success. Period.” 

E is for Enough by Amy Kessel:“The resistance to loving ourselves disappears when we know, really know, that we are enough.”

F is for Freedom by Jenny Blake: “A fallacy of freedom is that we must not allow ourselves to be tied-down, lest we lock the cage on our ability to fly.”

G is for Growth by Justine Musk:  “It’s how you grow through and out of it – the meaning you make of it – that can not only shape yourself and your creative work (and your life) — but inspire others.”

H is for Honoring by Randi Buckley: “The deepest honor in the name of self-love shines light onto the whispers in the heart.”