Most days don’t feel like a fork in the road. They feel like a to-do list, an inbox, a blur. But today’s Thought of the Day and Question of the Day are a reminder: every tiny decision adds up. And the life we’re living isn’t accidental—it’s curated. Maybe by habit, maybe by fear, maybe by choice. And sometimes we’ve been wrong about which it is.
In this post, I unpack a deceptively simple thought about decision-making and a bold question about being wrong—and owning up to it. Spoiler: most of us are better at one than the other.
Thought of the Day:
“Some up every tiny decision you make every day, and you learned the life you’ve chosen to live.”
The wording might be a little clunky, but the meaning? Spot on.
I don’t think any of us mean to create a life of hurry, or distraction, or quiet dissatisfaction—but that’s exactly what we get when we make a hundred tiny compromises every day and call it survival. Hit snooze. Skip the workout. Avoid the hard conversation. Scroll instead of speak. Shrug instead of commit.
And each little choice on its own seems harmless—until one day you look around and wonder how you got here. And the answer is: you walked here, slowly and steadily, decision by decision.
The truth is, you don’t drift into the life you want. You build it.
I’ve been guilty of checking out, of waiting for “later” to make real changes, of assuming that if I just coast a bit, I’ll somehow end up somewhere better. But what this quote reminds me is that coasting is still movement—it’s just not always in the direction you’d choose if you were awake and paying attention.
If this resonates, you might also appreciate this earlier reflection:
Before you worry about how to win the game, figure out whether the game is worth winning.
Question of the Day: “How often are you wrong—and how often do you admit it?”
Listen, I’d like to think I’m right most of the time. I’m sure you would, too. But I’ve been wrong about all kinds of things—what time a meeting started, whether someone was mad at me, how to spell “restaurant” without autocorrect. (Seriously, why does that word feel like a spelling bee booby trap?)
But the more uncomfortable truth isn’t just how often we’re wrong—it’s how often we admit we’re wrong.
There’s this stubborn part of the brain that would rather be confidently incorrect than vulnerably honest. Especially if being wrong risks our pride, image, or the illusion that we have it all together.
I think about a recent moment with my wife—she gently called me out for dismissing something she cared about. I felt the immediate urge to defend myself, to be right. But she was right. And I knew it. Saying, “You’re right. I was off there. I’m sorry,” didn’t kill me. It actually made things better. Imagine that.
There’s real strength in the admission. And maybe if we practiced that more often, the world wouldn’t feel so defensive and brittle all the time.
Want more honest reflection? Try this question from a few weeks ago: What Do You Think People Misunderstand Most About You?. That one cracked me open, too.
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So—how often are you wrong? And more importantly, how often do you admit it?
And if you paused today to consider the sum of your tiny choices… would you like the life they’ve built?
Drop your thoughts in the comments, or join the daily email crew to get reflections like this every morning. One minute a day. That’s a small choice. But maybe one worth making.
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