This concept is not novel, but I was thinking about it in specific terms the other day. When you were a kid, did you have save stickers to wait for the perfect time and perfect surface to use them on? But, surprise, surprise, that perfect moment never came? Circumstances were never quite right enough.
I logically know that life is imperfect by nature and most things are hard to begin but the seriousness of decision paralysis hit me in a special way when I considered this childhood lens. Those stickers I hoarded? I have no CLUE where they are now. The window for using them ended at some point, unbeknownst to me. A theory very similar to this one that I’ve dubbed the “don’t save the sticker” theory (so official sounding, I’m really breaking new ground over here) is the Fig Tree analogy. The idea is that in life, you are presented with a branch of figs which represent opportunities. These figs tend to serve as a metaphor for different careers and life paths one could pursue BUT you only have so much time to choose your figs as they will eventually rot. You have to choose one or you essentially choose none.
This theory is a bit hyper-focused in career paths and “roles” one could play in life so, to a degree, I disagree with it. I think you can be a successful artist who is also a horse-back rider. An accountant can go home and write novels. We are limited by time, yes, but I don’t think it’s quite so dire that we can only choose one singular fig. I think we can be many things in life and it’s never too late to try pivoting.
That’s why I like the concept of the “Don’t save the sticker”. It really emphasizes simply taking what opportunities you can, even if they’re not what you perceive as “perfect” circumstances. This is theory is in line with the saying of “do it tired” or “do it scared”. Just do it. (Oh look, I’m Nike now).
I think the real tragedy of saving the sticker isn’t that we might use it “wrong,” but that we quietly accept inaction as neutrality when it’s actually a choice. Not choosing is still choosing. I have to remember that not making a decision is often me choosing comfort, familiarity, or the illusion that I’ll be more ready later. And later is SUCH a slippery concept. It feels infinite right up until it isn’t.
Maybe the goal isn’t to use every sticker wisely, but to use them at all. To slap them onto notebooks that get scuffed, water bottles that eventually crack, or moments that aren’t Instagram-worthy but are real and lived-in. A sticker on a scratched surface still did its job: it existed.
I don’t want a life where everything stays pristine because I was too afraid to commit. Let things be temporary, flawed, and unfinished if that’s the cost of letting them exist at all.
After all, unused stickers don’t become more valuable with time. They just disappear.
By the Brooke 