I remember taking trips to NYC with my family as a kid. My younger brother is a tap dancer, and at a young age, danced in clubs throughout the city, so we were there regularly.
On some days more than others, Manhattan traffic was rough. My Dad used to call particularly painful intersections the "white knuckle zone," meaning your hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles turn white. He also used to say, "you have to commit" before driving fearlessly into a sea of yellow cabs determined to get to their destination.
Spending a decade living in the city, I thought of these phrases often, especially while driving in Manhattan, Dana in the passenger seat, wincing at every turn.
What I've discovered, though, is that these concepts go beyond navigating Manhattan. If my Dad didn't commit; instead, stuck debating the perfect time to go, we would have never gotten anywhere.
In life, indecision is the enemy of progress. It's worthwhile to think things through, but at a certain point, you have to commit.