14 مارس 2021
No matter what we do, in love, job and everyday life, everything requires a commitment: time, money, feelings. Sometimes more than we think. But even uneconomic decisions can be just right for us.
It starts in minute one. We come into the world unsuspecting, looking forward to finally having light and freedom of movement, and then the big but follows: breathing by yourself, crying out for food, and then there's that damn gravity! You just don't get anything for free in life. The next math lesson follows soon after: four scoops of ice cream cost two hours of stomach ache. Blasphemy with Marie (4a) costs friendship with Nadine (4b). But on the other hand, commitment also pays off, as we later discover: in better grades, job opportunities, and when the time-consuming collection of signatures for a new bike path finally gets a hearing in the city council.
The more emotional the decision, the more difficult the consideration
Our entire existence follows the principle of double-entry bookkeeping: if something comes in on one side, something goes out on the other. One can come to this conclusion by oneself or hear it from the vernacular ("No pain, no gain"). Some costs we can estimate approximately - in feeling, time, money and human relations. Others are hidden in the fine print or come into play much later.
Sometimes it's quite obvious. If I want to write a book, for example, I have to reckon with not getting past page ten. Or later watching literary critic Denis Scheck throw my work down the garbage chute on camera. On the plus side, there can be anything from the experience of at least having tried (consolation prize) to a world career as a bestselling author (main prize). But the more emotional a decision, the harder it often is to weigh. And life is often like an installment sale: enjoy now, check out later.
A man with money and career ambitions may be able to lay the world at our feet. But we may pay for it later with a lot of loneliness and the renunciation of an interesting job of our own, because we constantly change our place of residence for his sake. Conversely, if we want to have a love at eye level and children to go with it, that doesn't just mean taking turns picking each other up from daycare and singing bedtime songs. It also means sharing responsibility for rent and income.
What counts in my life?
Now it would be inhumane if we made every decision dependent on a cool cost-benefit calculation. It can be perfectly right to do things that are forbidden by this logic. Standing up to the boss to preserve one's dignity, even if it makes it harder to get promoted. Buying that snazzy house even though it needs renovation and is too far out of the way. Because it's not the objective price of a decision that counts - who should determine that? - but the question of our subjective values: What counts in my life, what do I need to be me, what can I do without?
One person wants to finally be self-employed and found her start-up, and pays for it with a lot of work, financial risk, and the renunciation of many a fun evening with friends. Another would rather forego the great sexual fulfillment in exchange for someone with whom she can laugh and who shares her interests. And the third would rather be permanently single than making compromises. Opposite calculations, which nevertheless work out. Just not for everyone.
And then there are those calculations that we cannot make in advance with the best will in the world. Simply because life is not without risk. When a safe career choice from 20 years ago suddenly becomes a crisis model, a loved one becomes seriously ill or a public office increasingly becomes a target for hatred and malice. Perhaps we will at least be able to share the bill. To find other people who share part of the burden, who support us, even if it is because they have experienced similar things and understand us. A kind of emotional crowdfunding for challenging times. Because that's just priceless.
Writer and news editor I work on a site FLUXES .
