Subscribe
Share
Share
Embed
Lighter Than You Started is a daily podcast offering gentle reflections on the news, the noise, and the small human moments that shape our days. With wry humour and quiet honesty, it’s not about fixing you, just about ending each day feeling a little lighter than when it began.
Hello, and welcome to Lighter Than You Started.
It's Wednesday.
And today I'd like to talk about options.
Generally, we like having them.
Would you like tea or coffee?
Options.
Morning or afternoon?
Options.
Stay in or go out?
Options.
Having a choice feels good.
And losing a choice can feel restrictive.
So perhaps it's understandable that we sometimes try to keep as many options open as possible.
“I haven't decided yet.”
“Maybe.”
“Let's see.”
“I might.”
“I'll keep it open for now.”
Which can be useful.
Sometimes we genuinely need more information.
Sometimes there's no reason to decide early.
And sometimes flexibility is exactly what we need.
But there's another side to keeping options open.
Every open option requires a little bit of mental space.
Perhaps someone has invited you somewhere at the weekend.
You haven't said yes.
You haven't said no.
You're keeping your options open.
Which sounds wonderfully flexible.
Except now a little part of Saturday is occupied.
Can you make another plan?
Maybe.
But what if you decide to go to the first thing?
Should you reply?
Not yet.
How do you feel about it?
You're not sure.
So the invitation remains sitting there...
not exactly a problem...
but not exactly gone either.
An open tab.
We've talked before about mental browser tabs.
Perhaps undecided options are another variety.
Nothing is actively happening.
But they're still using a little memory.
And if there are enough of them...
you begin to notice.
“I might do that.”
“Perhaps I'll start that.”
“Maybe we'll go there.”
“I could keep this just in case.”
“I haven't decided whether to...”
Each one is tiny.
But together they create a kind of mental waiting room.
Lots of possibilities sitting there patiently...
hoping their name will be called.
I wonder if we sometimes confuse having more options with having more freedom.
They can be the same thing.
But not always.
Sometimes freedom comes from closing a few doors.
Think about a restaurant menu.
A few good choices?
Lovely.
A menu with eleven pages, 147 dishes and a separate booklet for sauces?
Suddenly dinner has become an examination.
You chose to go out because you didn't want to cook.
Now you're conducting a comparative analysis of seventeen pasta dishes.
More choice doesn't always feel lighter.
Sometimes it simply creates more choosing.
And perhaps life can work the same way.
We keep things open because deciding feels final.
If I say no, that option disappears.
If I choose this, perhaps I can't choose that.
If I get rid of something, maybe I'll need it later.
If I stop considering that possibility, perhaps I'll regret it.
So we leave everything slightly ajar.
But a life with every door open can become quite draughty.
At some point, perhaps we need to close a few.
Not because the options were bad.
Simply because we don't need all of them anymore.
There's a question that might help:
“Do I still want this option, or do I just not want to close it?”
I think those are different things.
You may have something in your wardrobe you haven't worn for years.
Do you genuinely want the option of wearing it?
Or do you simply dislike the finality of giving it away?
You may have an invitation you keep avoiding answering.
Do you genuinely want to go?
Or do you not want to commit to saying no?
You may have an idea you've been carrying for months.
Do you still want to pursue it?
Or have you become attached to the possibility of pursuing it?
There's nothing wrong with possibilities.
They're lovely.
But possibilities can have a strange advantage over decisions.
A possibility hasn't encountered reality yet.
The imaginary course you might take is still perfect.
The project you might start has no problems.
The trip you might book hasn't rained once.
The hobby you might begin has not yet required you to be terrible at it.
Possibility is very polished.
Reality is more demanding.
So perhaps sometimes we keep options open because choosing one means allowing it to become real.
And real things can disappoint us.
But real things can also actually happen.
That's the trade.
We cannot experience every possible version of our lives.
At some point, choosing one thing means not choosing another.
And although that can feel like loss...
it's also how our time acquires shape.
Imagine trying to plan a Saturday while refusing to exclude anything.
You might go for a walk.
Or meet someone.
Or do some gardening.
Or drive somewhere.
Or stay home.
Or go shopping.
Or start that job you've been meaning to do.
Or perhaps do nothing.
Perfect.
You have preserved maximum flexibility.
You have also created a Saturday that requires ongoing negotiations with yourself.
“What shall I do now?”
“Maybe later.”
“If I do this, will I still have time for that?”
And sometimes by mid-afternoon, we've spent more energy considering Saturday than actually having one.
Perhaps there's relief in deciding:
“I'm not doing that today.”
Not forever.
Today.
That job?
Not today.
Those shops?
Another day.
That invitation?
No, thank you.
That idea?
I'm not pursuing it at the moment.
And notice what happens.
The option stops asking for attention.
There's a particular lightness in a clean no.
Not an angry no.
Not a dramatic no.
Just a decision.
“That's not what I'm doing.”
We often talk about deciding what matters.
But perhaps mental load is also reduced by deciding what doesn't matter right now.
Because if everything remains potentially important...
everything continues competing.
I think work can be particularly good at this.
We create lists.
Perhaps you've got fifteen things you could do today.
And all fifteen remain mentally active.
You choose one...
while wondering whether you should be doing another.
You move to the second...
while remembering the third.
Perhaps instead of only choosing:
“This is what I'm doing now,”
we sometimes need to say:
“And these are the things I'm deliberately not doing now.”
There's a difference between something being neglected and something being consciously deferred.
The first feels like it's chasing us.
The second has somewhere to wait.
Perhaps that's one reason a good calendar can feel calming.
It isn't only telling us when we'll do something.
It's giving us permission not to do it yet.
If you've decided:
“I'll deal with that on Friday,”
Wednesday doesn't have to keep asking about it.
At least in theory.
Our brains occasionally ignore the filing system and wander into Friday's folder anyway.
But we can gently send them back.
“Not today. We've already decided.”
There are bigger versions of this too.
Sometimes we keep alternative futures mentally available long after we've chosen.
Perhaps we've made a decision...
but we continue protecting the other possibilities.
“I could still...”
“Maybe one day...”
And there's nothing wrong with changing your mind.
We talked recently about not needing to keep remaking a decision unless something has changed.
Perhaps today's thought sits beside that.
Once you've chosen a direction, you don't necessarily need to preserve every alternative at full mental volume.
You can allow some possibilities to become quieter.
That isn't trapping yourself.
It's giving the choice you've made some room to exist.
And if circumstances change?
You can reconsider.
Closing an option today doesn't necessarily mean bolting the door forever.
We sometimes behave as though every decision is being carved into a stone tablet.
Most aren't.
You can say no to an invitation and accept another one next month.
You can decide not to pursue an idea now and return to it later.
You can remove something from your list and put it back if it becomes important.
You can make a decision based on the information you have...
then respond if the information changes.
That's not inconsistency.
That's life.
So perhaps we don't need to keep every possibility alive just in case.
Maybe some options have served their purpose simply by being considered.
We looked at them.
Thought about them.
And chose something else.
They don't need compensation.
There is no support group for rejected Saturday plans.
They'll be fine.
Perhaps today you could notice one option you've been keeping open.
Something small.
An invitation.
A job.
A purchase.
A plan.
An idea.
Ask yourself:
“Do I still want this option, or do I just not want to close it?”
If you genuinely want the flexibility, keep it.
There's nothing wrong with that.
But if the option is only hanging around because you haven't quite brought yourself to decide...
perhaps make the decision.
Yes.
No.
Not now.
Another day.
I'm not doing that.
I'm choosing this instead.
And then notice whether a little space appears.
Because sometimes mental load isn't created by everything we have to do.
Sometimes it's created by everything we haven't quite decided not to do.
Today's thought to sit with, if it helps:
You don't need to keep every option open. Sometimes deciding what you're not doing creates space for what you are.
Thank you for sharing this moment.
And as always,
I hope you end today feeling lighter than you started.