In Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar is a famous fig tree analogy. A woman sits beneath a tree, each fig representing a different life path. She sees herself as a world traveller, a mother, a poet, a professor. But as she hesitates to choose, the figs begin to wither and fall, leaving her frozen and fig-less.
This metaphor captures the existential dread of choosing a future, and for students like us, it’s all too relatable. Sylvia Plath’s own tragic end – the whole sticking her head into an oven business – is a reminder that indecision can drive you mad.
I’m a ‘go with the flow’ kind of person, I will cross that bridge when I come to it . But now I’m here, standing where the bridge should be, and plot twist: there is no bridge. Just a sharp drop into the ‘Didn’t-Live-Up-To-Your-Potential-Abyss’.
The good news? I get to build the bridge myself. The bad news? I’m in the world’s largest Ikea, surrounded by endless rows of wood, steel, and too much more.
How am I supposed to choose when every option feels like it could lead to either brilliance or disaster? University programs, internships, career paths– each decision a fig on that tree, ripe with possibility but fragile under the weight of indecision. And the fear of picking the wrong one is paralyzing.
How am I supposed to choose when every option feels like it could lead to either brilliance or disaster?
Psychologists call this choice overload, and a famous experiment about jam illustrates this perfectly. In a grocery store, researchers set up a table displaying 24 types of jam. Shoppers were invited to sample as many as they liked and were given a coupon to buy a jar. On a different day, the researchers set up a similar table, but this time with only 6 types. The conclusion was clear: those who saw fewer options were ten times more likely to buy jam. Too many choices overwhelm us so, we choose none.
But really there is no single ‘right’ choice. We all learn Pythagoras’ theorem; most of us don’t use it daily, but does that make learning it a waste of time? Not at all. It teaches us logical thinking, a skill not to be sneezed at. So, the key is to just start building. Choosing one path doesn’t mean every other door closes forever. Figs grow back. Bridges can be rebuilt.
So, here’s my advice, for both you and me: try to think of each choice as an experiment. Being ambitious and not knowing what you want next are not mutually exclusive. Embracing that tension of uncertainty pushes us to build unconventional bridges.
And when you feel like sticking your head in an oven, replace Sylvia with my good friend Billy Joel for advice, because after all, ‘Vienna waits for you.’
CARLA ERASMUS