The next right thing by Emily P. Freeman
Researchers have tried to quantify the average number of decisions an adult makes in a day, and the number is staggering: around 35,000. Between what time to wake up, what to eat, what to wear, when to eat, and which route to take to work, many of us are quietly suffering from what’s known as decision fatigue. We face so many choices, but they don’t all carry the same weight—and because we know this, choosing between A and B can feel paralyzing.
The thing about life is that we don’t get to experience two paths at the same time. You can’t choose a new job and stay at your old one just to see which leads to greener pastures. I know our world has normalized dating two people at once, but even then, you’re not getting the full experience—you’re half in, hearts and attention divided. You cannot truly know until you choose one and give yourself fully to exploring that single path.
That’s why, in today’s blog, I’m reviewing “The Next Right Thing.” I picked it because I am, admittedly, a deeply indecisive person. I’m one of those people who lays out three church outfits the night before… and somehow still ends up wearing none of them. I’ll sit with a decision until the very last minute, and let me tell you—it’s not healthy. In that frantic final moment, you’re anxious, pressured, and your choice is often based on nothing more than a feeling in your gut.
Here are two things I took from the book that have been gently reshaping my approach:
1.Don’t Rush Clarity.
We fear making the wrong decision so much that we end up choosing nothing at all. We want to be 100% sure, to have full clarity before we move. But as Marie Forleo puts it: “Clarity comes from engagement, not thought. When you take action, you’ll access your natural knowing.” We can’t sit with a decision long enough to know how each option will turn out—it’s in the doing that we gain clarity. It’s in the stepping forward that we sense whether this path leads us closer to the future we desire.
This feels especially true in seasons of waiting—waiting for results, for answers, for doors to open. The truth is, some ideas take years to form. You’ll never know if your book will transform lives until you get it out there, and getting it out happens one slow word at a time. It’s not that the vision is wrong, or that you didn’t hear God clearly. Some ideas need time to breathe. Don’t rush clarity.
2.Choose Your Absence.
Whenever we face a decision, we often feel it has to be a “yes”—forgetting that “no” is a complete and powerful choice. The author talks about how, to remain true to your life, your calling, and your people, you sometimes have to turn down what others call “great opportunities.” You have to choose to be absent.
I once watched a video where a woman said, “You cannot attend every event every time and still have time for God.” Sometimes, you have to stay home. Sometimes, you have to go to bed early so you can incubate your vision and dreams. Isolation isn’t always something to avoid—sometimes, it’s something to desire.
The author acknowledges that choosing absence can be hard, especially when the fear of missing out is loud. But there’s power in being firm: “I do this. I only do this. I don’t do that.” Choose your absence so that your presence, when you give it, carries more weight.
There’s so much more the book covers, but these two lessons—don’t rush clarity, and choose your absence—have become little mantras in my own indecisive heart. They gently remind me that with every choice, the most important thing isn’t the outcome, but the person I’m becoming as I make it. My work is my work. My pace is my pace. My life is my life. And learning to trust that? Well, that might just be the greatest gift of all.