One big choice shapes a hundred more

I was 36, and had been living in Portland for two years. I saw an amazing house for sale — really amazing — stunning design, ideal location on the edge of the city, and its backyard was the start of a huge state park. I had a visceral reaction.

For a minute, I daydreamed about living the rest of my life in that house. Find a wife, and raise a family in that house. A bunch of grandkids, and that house would be a multi-generational axis.

Then I snapped out of it. What was I thinking? That’s not the life I want!

In 50 years, what would I rather be saying?

“I bought this house 50 years ago, and I’ve been here ever since!”

… or …

“Hey honey, what year did we move to Berlin?”
“2030, after Buenos Aires. Because in 2040 we moved to Bangalore.”
“Oh right. Our bungalow in Bali was the year before Beijing.”

Now that’s the life I want! Nothing against the settled life for others, but it’s not for me. I want to live in every corner of the world.

We make a big choice, like a house, job, spouse, or dog. We think about the thing itself: the look of the house, what the job pays, what a sweet dog. But a choice has so many cascading consequences. One big choice shapes a hundred little others. I try to imagine the ripple effects — the later details that make the day-to-day difference.

Then I think in reverse. Knowing the consequences I want, what choice would create them? What big choice would nudge a hundred others that way?

Within an hour of seeing that house, picturing the two different paths, it was clear I wanted to leave America forever, so I booked a flight to London. I didn’t know the details, but I knew this big first choice would send me in the right direction. (And it has.)

Atomic habits? Decision fatigue? One big choice decides a hundred others. So it helps to think of implications, and daydream backwards.