As I’ve mentioned, I have a new book, Secrets of Adulthood, which is a collection of one-sentence lessons I’ve learned, with time and experience, about life.
One of my Secrets of Adulthood is: “Decisions will be made, by choice or by chance, because not deciding is a decision. Not choosing is a choice.”
This Secret of Adulthood is related to the subject of drift, a subject that I’ve written about many times.
Drift is the decision we make by not deciding, or by making a decision that unleashes consequences for which we don’t take responsibility. Maybe we’re not sure what to do, so we take the easiest course. Maybe a particular decision would make someone else very happy—or keep them from being angry—so we do it.
I fear drift. Drift feels small, but once unleashed, drift is a powerful, often almost unstoppable, force.
Drift can show up in our work lives.
You go to medical school because both your parents are doctors. You take a job because someone offers you that job.
I drifted into law school. I didn’t know what else I wanted to do; it seemed like a legitimate, useful way to get more education; it would keep my options open; I could always change my mind later; I was good at reading and writing…I didn’t really think much about the decision. As it turns out, I’m very glad I went to law school—drift sometimes does lead to a happy result, which contributes to its dangerous appeal—but I didn’t approach law school mindfully. And many, many people who go to law school aren’t happy they went.
Just taking one drifting step can you set you on a course that’s very hard to stop. In my case, I drifted into taking the LSAT (the law-school application test). “Why not, might as well, could come in handy, maybe I’ll be glad I did,” etc.
Drift can also show up in our personal lives.
You get married because all your friends are getting married. You move to the suburbs because everyone your age is moving to the suburbs.
An engaged friend made it very obvious that she didn’t want to get married. I asked her, “Imagine that something happened, and you couldn’t get married next month. Your fiancé absolutely had to move to China for a year, alone, immediately. How would you feel?” “Relieved,” she said. And yet, when he asked her to marry him, she said yes; when he said they needed to set a wedding date, she went along; she went through with the wedding, and got divorced a year later.
To be sure, drift is different from mindfully deciding not to decide; some situations look like drift but aren’t.
We may be following a pathless path—and that’s fine, if that’s what we intend to do. Or we may need to choose between multiple courses, with their pros and cons, and we’re still deciding. This isn’t drift, because we’re actively weighing our options. However, if this goes on too long—and it’s hard to know what’s too long—it can become drift.
The word “drift” makes drift sound like the easy path, because “drift” has overtones of laziness or ease. but that’s not the case. Drift is often disguised by a huge amount of effort and perseverance.
For me, following the path of law was hard—from studying for the LSAT, to getting through law school, to clerking, to taking the bar exam.
If you’re wondering if you’re drifting, I created a checklist.
To end drift, we must recognize that we’re drifting. It can be painful to contemplate, but valuable.
Another of my drift-related Secrets of Adulthood is “You can choose what you do, but you can’t choose what you like to do.” And here’s another one: “Approval from the people we admire is sweet, but it’s not enough to be the foundation of a happy life.”
And here’s a Secret of Adulthood from George Bernard Shaw, from Man and Superman: “To be in hell is to drift: to be in heaven is to steer.”
It comes back, as always, to a fundamental truth about happiness: In order to create a happier life, we have to know ourselves and build our lives around our own natures.