Fear Choice vs. Love Choice. Which will you choose?

It’s Saturday night. Vancouver Island. British Columbia.

Damp. Cool. Just a slight murmur of rain.

I’m leading one of my writing workshops, and we’ve ended the day on a definite high. (Literally dancing across the floor — thanks to one very special guest.)

I turn to Lindsay Rose, who is attending the workshop. Warm, sweet, bright as a sunflower. One of those people you just want to stand close to, to soak up … whatever they’ve got percolating in their system.

“Are you joining us for dinner?” I ask. “It’s not mandatory. But most of us are going. Should be groovy.”

Lindsay pauses, just for a beat. And then — with a face as certain and calm as the dawn — she replies:

“My Fear Choice is yes, I’ll come. Because I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll miss out on something important.

But my Love Choice is no, I’ll skip the group dinner. Because my body wants to rest, and my mind wants time alone to recharge and integrate what we’ve worked on today. I have to go with my Love Choice.”

I splutter out four words I rarely utter: “Can you repeat that?”

Because every decision on the horizon just got twenty times simpler. Like boom.

Fear Choice vs. Love Choice.

Which will you choose?