When I’m facing a crossroads, I look for signs. Ideally, those are clear indicators of which path to choose. There’s one sign I seek most consistently: the directional arrow that points to the path with no regrets.

Because I want to live my life with no regrets.

Don’t you?

Regrets are heavy baggage we carry in life — when we miss the school play for work, fail in a relationship, leave important words left unsaid or let our priorities get way out of whack.

Regrets take up energy and space. They feel like bricks in a suitcase, consistently dragging behind you and making the path to your next destination treacherous. They drain energy that could be used to enjoy the journey while threatening to drag you to the ground at any moment to that lowest, weakest, most powerless version of yourself.

I’ve been there, too.

I was standing at a career crossroads. Stuck at the intersection between being passed over for promotion (again) and paralyzed with fear (outside job search). And I could only see one path. The traditional path. Keep pleasing. Keep performing. Keep perfecting. Keep your commitments. Don’t be a quitter. Don’t let anyone down — especially the team you lead.

Maybe you’ve been there, too. Maybe you’re there right now.

When you’re standing at a critical crossroads, what do you do next?

Pause.

Why pause — especially when your brain is telling you to slam the accelerator to the floor?

When all you want to do is race away from that vastly uncomfortable moment of indecision as quickly as possible — pause.

Because that speed-demon moment might cause you to miss valuable road signs to guide your journey of discovery.

In my case, my desired destination was living a life with no regrets. Could I find that path to possibilities?

Regrets compel us to look in the rear-view mirror. To revisit. To doubt. To question ourselves and our judgment. To live in the past.

And there are only two ways to view your life: through the rear-view mirror or through the windshield. Looking back or looking ahead.

When you’re looking in the rear-view mirror, how much more likely are you to crash?

If taking a pause is beneficial in avoiding a crash, why are we all — myself included — tempted to skip this step?

Pausing is uncomfortable. Busy is as comfortable and comforting as chicken soup on a cold winter’s night — especially when we feel uncertain.

You don’t recognize you’ve reached a crossroads. Competing priorities cloud our ability to realize we are stuck. Stuck in old patterns. Stuck in old beliefs. Stuck in old labels and limits.

No decision is an easier decision. No evaluation required. No messy trade-offs or emotions. It’s easier to let a series of small decisions ultimately become the big decisions — at least in the short-term.

Perceived pressure from others. We want to be liked and be loved — to belong. We are willing to settle for less than what we want to feel the way we want to feel.

Saying yes feels easier. Everyone likes an agreeable person. And the agreeable path is the crowded path. We feel we are in good company.

Ego factor. We want to be seen as “having it all together.” We want to be seen as “successful.” Always knowing and striving for our “next” with complete clarity.

Perceived impact on time and resources. We buy into the belief that we don’t have enough time or money to realize our deepest dreams and desires. We don’t see a solution.

Lack of confidence. Imposter syndrome and saboteur thoughts loudly repeat the refrain, “You’re not enough.” “You’ll never be enough.” “This is as good as it gets.”

You don’t know what you want. It’s like being hungry without knowing what you’re hungry for. Sometimes you and I know what we’re doing isn’t working. And dwelling on that thought is draining. Depressing. Overwhelming. Especially if the pressure to decide feels urgent.

When I pressed pause at my career crossroads, three simple questions became the road signs that pointed me toward a path of possibilities. And moved me toward a life of no regrets. The same three questions will work for you, too:

What’s working?What’s not working?What’s the smallest step I can take to move toward my desired outcome?

A single step is a motion. Motion is momentum. Momentum is magical.