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Last week I stood in the grocery store mulling over whether to spend $7.99 on a tiny container of local organic raspberries.
Had I been shopping for myself, I would have grabbed the less-expensive larger container, but a dear friend is staying with me, and these were for her.
What should I do?
Hours before, I’d been on a call as part of a course I’m taking (and loving). The facilitator had talked about decision-making.
“One way to define alignment,” he said, “is when our actions are congruent with who we want to be.”
He pointed out that our values can help us make decisions about which actions to take.
Said simply:
Our Values help us
make Decisions
that Align our Actions
with who we want to Be.
Back to the raspberries and my indecision. I wondered about what values might be at play that were making this decision non-obvious.
The first value was easy: Generosity. I LOVE generosity. I love generous friends. I love being generous. I love generous systems. I have a belief the whole world works, feels better, and is way more fun in the context of generosity.
My value of generosity was the primary reason I was considering the more expensive raspberries.
But I also value Sufficiency. I rarely opt for “the best” when “good enough” is an option.
Why? No idea, I just LIKE IT. It feels good to me. It feels right for me.
Someone who values excellence might choose the fancier option. Someone who values thriftiness might buy frozen berries or skip them all together. Someone who prioritizes the environment might buy local without another thought.
So what do I do when my values appear to conflict?

Historically, one part of me bullies another part into getting its way.
The-Part-That-Values-Sufficiency might sound like this: “You’re such an irresponsible show-off. Stop trying to buy people’s approval. The less-expensive raspberries are fine. She’d never even know there was another option. You’re going to spend us into trouble.”
The-Part-That-Values-Generosity might sound like this: “I can’t believe you’re even considering skimping on one of your best friends. You’re so cheap and self-absorbed.”
Normally, the louder, more convincing voice wins. Then afterwards I’m shamed by the other voice, the one that didn’t get its way.
Had I bought the expensive ones, I’d have heard, “You’re wasteful.” Had I bought the cheaper ones, I’d have heard, “You’re selfish.”
All of this is usually subconscious. I’m so used to these sale-pitches and the retroactive attacks, I barely notice how painful it all is.
This time something new happened.
When I asked myself “which values are involved in this choice?” my genuine curiosity brought both parts into conscious awareness.
This is actually a big deal. Before knowing about this values question, I’d have judged my indecision as “the part of me that’s approval seeking vs. the part of me that’s financially insecure.”Â
I’d have actually interpreted both parts as character flaws, rather than noticing they were both coming from love.
Just by shifting to the assumption that all perspectives at play were valid, all my parts felt honored, included, respected.
I didn’t suppress or override any part of myself in the consideration. Suppressed parts are the ones that yell, cry, or tug at us later, desperate to be heard.
In the end, it doesn’t matter which raspberries I chose. It only matters how I considered the choice. My parts felt included rather than excluded.
So once the berries were in my basket, I walked on in peace.