The Case for Wobbling, It Isn’t Failure, It’s Progress

Do you ever find yourself frozen at the edge of a decision? Hovering over the "send" button on the application? Rehearsing the hard conversation for the fourteenth time? Waiting for one more sign, one more guarantee, one more scrap of proof that the leap will work out before you agree to take it? I know that freeze well, which is why I didn't expect my latest lesson in decision-making to come from the front door.

This spring, a bird built a nest directly into the wreath hanging there; that entrance became off-limits—for weeks. Guests were rerouted. Deliveries were retrieved like covert operations. In short, we became the self-appointed security detail for a family we'd never officially met. And we took only careful peeks—first at a clutch of tiny speckled eggs, then at hatchlings that looked, frankly, like tiny aliens—all beak, no plan.

Then came the day I was lucky enough to watch two of them leave the nest. There was no graceful, nature-documentary glide. They jumped—awkwardly, with approximately zero control of their wings—reached the ground, wobbled, and looked around with what I can only describe as genuine confusion, as if to say, Well, that happened. Then they forged forward anyway.

What struck me: They didn't know what came next. No guarantee. No plan B. They leapt anyway, because staying in the nest was never the assignment. Humans rarely give themselves that same kind of permission.

The Research on Leaping

Before changing careers, moving, ending a relationship—or finally pursuing a dream—we want data and assurances first. But research suggests the caution may be costing us real momentum.

Economist Steven Levitt ran a large field experiment in which more than 20,000 people who were genuinely stuck on a major decision—quit the job, end the relationship, move—agreed to let a coin flip nudge their choice. Those nudged toward change were more likely to make it and reported greater happiness six months later than those who stayed put. Levitt's takeaway: When facing life-changing choices, people may be excessively cautious.

And when we don't leap? Research by psychologists Thomas Gilovich and Victoria Medvec found that regret follows a predictable time course: Actions sting more in the short term, but in the long run, it's our inactions—the risks not taken, the doors not opened—that we regret most. The wobbly landing fades. The leap we never took lingers.

Wobbling Is What Forward Motion Looks Like

I know this pattern personally. Years ago, I was a successful advertising creative in the Bay Area who had been writing scripts and making home movies as a hobby, while being thoroughly afraid to move to Los Angeles and actually try my hand at doing it professionally. I had the nest. It was comfortable. It had snacks.

When I finally jumped, I was every bit as wobbly as those fledglings—no control of my wings, occasionally landing face-first. Eventually, with unwavering persistence and a healthy dose of stubbornness, the work came. Then more work. Then movies I never would have written had I stayed where I was. Looking back, the wobbling was never evidence that I wasn't ready. The hardest part was convincing myself I didn’t need certainty before I could begin.

Fewer Questions, More Initiative

The fledglings didn't wait until they understood aerodynamics. They didn’t wait for their wings to become something they weren’t yet. They leapt with the ones they had.

If you're perched at the edge of something—a pivot, a hard conversation, a life goal you keep politely rescheduling—remember this: The wobbling isn't evidence that you're not ready. It's evidence that you might have outgrown your nest.

Decision-Making Essential Reads

What Can You Learn From Your Indecision?

Why We Want What We Want

Don't let fear of sticking a perfect landing keep you from taking the leap.