Choice paralysis
Red or Blue?
Taste Notes:
Origin: Choice paralysis, The Matrix, overthinking
Flavor Profile: Frustration, realization, relief
Method: Embracing instability, human batteries
The Matrix isn't the movie most people think of when summer turns to fall. What part of a post-apocalyptic world where robots use humans as batteries says cozy sweaters and pumpkin spice? People usually reach for stories of wizards on the run from dark lords who just need a hug.
Lately, The Matrix has been on my mind—not for its action sequences or the idea of living in a simulation but for what it says about choices.
For all of August, I wrote daily—no questions, no pauses. There was no choice involved: show up, write, hit post, go to bed. Simple. But when September rolled around, I found myself in a different kind of scene, one where Morpheus was standing before me, holding out not just two pills but a handful.
Suddenly, choices were everywhere. What to write next? Should I keep this momentum going? Should I write daily, or step back? Beyond writing, there were personal choices too—where to live, what schools my kids should attend. It was two weeks of nothing but choices, each feeling more weighted than the last.
And then I got stuck—paralyzed by indecision.
"You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."
If I were Neo, I'd without a doubt ask Morpheus the following questions:
- What do the pills taste like?
- Is there a third option?
- why does Morpheus look so cool?
- is there a purple pill?
- does the rabbit hole have good coffee?
I'd be caught in the moment, not because of fear, but because of my default of strategy and planning. Map out every possible outcome.
That's how I live most of my life—a constant strategist, always mentally weighing outcomes. If I make this choice, what happens in five years? If I take the other path, what doors will close? It sounds careful, methodical even. But more often than not, it's a trap.
Choice paralysis. We've all been there. From which coffee to buy to what Netflix show to binge, we convince ourselves there's a "right" option hidden in all the noise. We watch reviews, read rankings, and consult every list, but we end up more confused than we started. One video says Product A is the best. Another says Product B is better. And suddenly, I'm back at square one. Which is so bloody annoying.
Through prayer and therapy, I've come to realize something: most of the time, there isn't a "right" choice. There's just the choice you make. And as long as those choices lead me to a place where, in the end, my wife is beside me, and my kids—and maybe even some grandkids, assuming we don't all get turned into human batteries by AI—are there to say goodbye, that's enough. that’s the goal. It's the only strategy worth working out.
All the overthinking, the mental computing? It's just a way to dodge that feeling of instability. I truly despise that feeling; It's painful beyond words I can write..
Honestly? As I am now, I'd probably take the blue pill. It feels like the more stable option, especially after Morpheus answers all my questions. If he tells me the coffee's bad, that's it—I'm out. But there's a part of me that wants to be the guy who takes the red pill. The guy who dives into the rabbit hole of uncertainty—of writing, of life.
The other realization that the last two weeks of the season transition have shown me is that writing feels unstable. It's new. It goes against my defaults, everything I've built in the last 29 years. But I'm a Dad, and if my kids came to me and said, "Dad, I don't want to do this—it seems unstable," I'd push them both emotionally and physically. I'd remind them they have a place to heal after the fall.
Thank you for taking a moment of your valuable time. Parental Notion is my creative playground, and while I'm far from feeling like it's directly valuable to others, a good friend told me that every work deserves at least a cup of coffee. So, if you'd like to support the work, you can do so here: buy me a coffee
If you haven't yet, I have over 31 pieces I wrote during my August writing challenge. Here are a few of my favorites:
What I've been up to:
- Kids are fully back into the school routine, and with that came the first autumn cold, which ripped through our house. I was the first victim, with a temp of 103 and a killer headache. Kids are gross.
- Working on my home fall menu—the kids are helping out this time, which has been a super fun project. I'm now the proud owner of "Apple Cat Cafe." Come grab a coffee.
Thoughts:
There are moments as a parent when you look at your child and think, "When did you get that big?" In those moments, flashes of how small they used to play in your mind—they grow up all over again in a second. Then, of course, you get hit with: "Dad, why are you looking at me so hard?" To which I always say, "Just watching, kid. Just watching."
Thank you, honestly, until next Thursday.
John D.