Making Choices

LIFE is full of choices - but how do we choose how to make them? ROBIN CURRIE shares his thoughts on the subject - between house viewing appointments

For nearly 18 months, Trish and I have been trying to buy a house. We've seen the details of dozens, possibly even hundreds, of properties but resolutely failed to identify one we want to buy. Some have got close, one or two have been serious possibilities, but none has felt quite right. And if you're looking to buy a home rather than just somewhere to keep the rain off, the 'feel' is essential.

Obviously, this has brought up all manner of old traumas and subliminal patterns, chiefly involving fear and self-criticism. Are we being too demanding? Is it expecting too much that we get what we want? Rather than hanging on for Mr Righthouse, perhaps we should settle for Mr Good-enough-house. But what do we do if the real Mr R turns up afterwards?

Part of the self-questioning has to do with the way in which we make choices. For example, I know much more about what I don't want than about what I do. Many of my decisions are exclusive, which is to say I nominate certain things as unattractive and exclude them from my consideration.

By contrast, Trish knows with a considerable certainty what she wants and can describe it in detail. Many of her decisions are therefore inclusive in that whatever she chooses will have to meet certain basic criteria.

The upshot is that we are the homebuyers from Hell. I say, 'it mustn't include x, y or z' and Trish insists that, on the contrary,' it HAS to have a, b and c'. Gradually, however, we are whittling it down to a search for an experience rather than a checklist of attributes.

This seems sensible as there is a serious chance that, by going down the current route, we may find a house which meets both our requirements - only to discover that we hate it. Whereas if we keep an open mind about how the experience is to be fulfilled, we can cheerfully consider everything from the one-bedroom studio to the pocket mansion with trout stream and golf course. As if.

But this still leaves un-answered the question of how we know what's right for us.
I notice that the first process I've described is largely an intellectual one, while the second relies on a combination of feeling and intuition. As with so many other things, the latter seems more hopeful.

I sometimes think that making a choice is like being shipwrecked in the South Atlantic. You have a variety of options. For example, you can do nothing. If you're perfectly relaxed you will float and eventually someone may turn up to rescue you. However, the water will get up your nose, you'll become cold and anxious and bored and eventually you'll probably just give up and sink.

Alternatively, you can head off in virtually any direction and eventually you'll hit land. The bearing you choose will determine how far you have to travel, and how hospitable will be the place that you end up, but if you just keep travelling you'll end up somewhere better. This is pretty much the intellectual option, and has been the one I've tended to rely on in the past.

However, it now seems to me that there is a better alternative. Yes, you need to make a choice, because if you take off in one direction and then change your mind you'll find yourself back where you started -, only with less energy because you've been swimming for hours. So yes, you also need to be committed to the choice you've made. But there are other considerations.

There are currents in the oceans, and these have a flavour of their own. As you swim, keep alert to changes in the water. Some currents will smell of sewage and diesel. Some will smell of blood, some of salt. And some will smell of honey.

And each current meets others and merges and divides, so as you swim you need to keep making individual choices in pursuit of a greater one. But once you stop and sniff the water you will become aware that there is an underlying flow and that you can identify it. After that, it's just a question of following the honey.

Robin Currie is an Independent Financial Adviser specialising in ethical and socially responsible products. He can be contacted for advice at 54Longbrook Street, Exeter EX4 5RP. Tel: 01392-411630 E-mail: robin.currie@btconnect.com