Deciding

I'm deciding something. It's big, and it isn't only mine to decide, so I won't say what it is. But I've been at it for weeks, and this is where I've always come to think, so here I am, thinking around the edges of it.

My mother has a rule for decisions, the way she has rules for letters. Write down what you'd do if you weren't afraid. Then write down what you'd do if you weren't hopeful. If the two lists match, you've already decided, and you're only waiting for permission.

I made the lists on Thanksgiving, on the back of a receipt. They match. I've looked at them every day since, the way you'd check a stove you know is off.

What I didn't expect is how calm it is once the lists match. The fear is still there, but it's moved. It isn't about whether anymore. It's about how, and when, and how to tell the people I care about, some of whom read this. That's the part I'm turning over now. I've been walking a lot. I've walked to Volunteer Park and back in the dark three nights this week, drafting a letter in my head each time, and none of the drafts is right.

How did you know, the last time you decided something that changed your life? Was there a moment, or did you look up one day and find you already had?