“Tell me what to do,” the young one said.
“Whatever you wish,” replied the mentor. “That’s the beauty of freedom. You do whatever you think you need to do.”
“What if I don’t know?”
“Then do anything. Do something, and see if it fits you.”
“And if it doesn’t? Fit, that is?” the young one fidgeted.
“Then do something else, and something else again, until you find a fit,” the mentor said, patiently. “It’s your choice.”
“I don’t know how to choose.”
“Incorrect. You know how to choose, but you worry that you won’t make the right choice, and so you hesitate.” A pause. “Nothing is difficult about choosing, except working through the hesitation.”
Still inconsolate: “What if I run out of choices and am still unsatisfied?”
Now the mentor smiled, gently. “It is impossible to run out of choices.”
“And what if I refuse to choose?”
“Then you will have chosen nothing,” said the mentor, kindly. “Which will change the mix of choices when you return to a place of choosing.”
“Maybe it will be a better mix,” said the young one, hopefully.
“Maybe it will be,” said the mentor. “But you will have lost what may have been, had you chosen now.”