“Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.” -Alexander Graham Bell

During my summer in France, I often frequented Place de l'Opera, the neighborhood that is home to Palais Garnier. During my last weekend in town, I passed by this boutique which was filled with various trinkets, including a little jewelry box decorated with treated gemstones. It was love at first sight, but as usual, I stopped myself from being impulsive. I decided to walk around a bit then return. Of course, when I made my way back to the store, it had closed for the night. I stared longingly through my reflection in the window at the little box, while both sympathizing with and reprimanding myself.

Last Friday after work, I bee-lined it back home to gather my belongings and catch a train to San Francisco. The train arrived at the stop just as I was purchasing my ticket. That rush of anxiety that accompanies urgency came over me. I fumbled with my credit card but finally stuffed it into the machine. Error processing card. More general clumsiness. Error processing card. Suddenly I noticed that my card was upside down. When I finally obtained my ticket, the train doors were closing. I looked at the conductor through the window mouthing Please, can you please just let me in. I have my ticket. He shook his head apologetically and we helplessly stared at each other as the train began to pick up speed.

At this point, you're probably thinking, "Come on drama queen, we've all missed trains before. You probably had to wait like, ten more minutes for the next train." And you know given the information you've received so far, that's a fair judgment. But the story continues.

The next train arrived and I pushed my way to the front to be the first one on. We were off. Two stops down, the conductor announced that we were experiencing mechanical difficulties and that we would be a couple minutes delayed while he attempted to resolve the problem. After ten minutes with no luck, he made a band-aid fix and we were rolling again. It was the same story at the next stop. And the stop after. Finally, when we reached Redwood City, we were asked to exit the train. Sorry folks. For your safety I've got to ask you to detrain and wait for another one to come this way. Our train has delayed all the ones behind us.

So, we all got off and waited. If I had just made that first train, I would already be in the city by now. And waited. If nothing had happened to this train I would already be in the city by now. And waited.

I finally arrived in the city and in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a huge deal. I know, there are bigger problems in this world. But in the midst of it, the experience was all-encompassing.

The phrase "window of opportunity" is so painfully representative of the real world. In your business and personal life. In my transition from college to corporate life, the importance of timely decision-making has become more apparent than ever. Due to either naivete or irrationality (or a little of both), I've spent most of my life bought in to the illusion that opportunities will always "be there." And anyway, when we were younger, opportunities were confined by a set path, discrete periods of time, and a strong parental force. By no means am I trying to cheapen the past; life is just so relative.

It was when I heard it aloud in a team meeting a couple weeks ago that it really struck home. Yes, there is a window of opportunity. But you have to remember, that window of opportunity closes. And it closes forever. We were talking about a user's first experience with our application. Those first couple moments would really make it or break it. Determine whether he or she would ever launch the application again.

Google+ is a fitting, albeit controversial, example. When it was launched last month, I couldn't help but feel it was too late for me to be won over. A couple social platforms are already deeply integrated in my lifestyle, I've gotten past the learning curves, and quite frankly, I'm comfortable. I don't feel a need for another vehicle for my online social interactions. And given that a majority of Google+ users are not active, I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. In some ways, the phase of social-platform creation is over. Now it's about incorporating social components into everything else. Perhaps a new and different opportunity could have been explored instead.

A lot is involved when it comes to these windows of opportunity. Obviously, you first need an opportunity. Sometimes, that means being in the right place at the right time, but most of the time it's about actively seeking out opportunities. Then, there's the refined balancing act of accurately assessing and grabbing (or letting go) of the right opportunities at the right time. Easier said than done. And in the end, the most difficult part is accepting that the window is closed. That it's time to move on, try something else. Anyway, no one opportunity will get you everything. Walking into a glass door seems like an appropriate metaphor here.

Earlier in this post when I said that our youth was confined by a set path, I was referring to the linear nature of things we sort of just "had" to do. The structure. School year. Summer vacation. School year. But once you've escaped from that cycle (not intended to be a religious reference), there are no straight lines. It's a circuitous route and the opportunities you pursue navigate.

It's all about having destinations in mind and the willingness to take risks. I'm not going to lie. This scares the shit out of me. No one train will take us everywhere. To me, it's about accepting that we'll have to change trains several times. That a few will break down. But the right trains will eventually get us to the right places. As an inspiring leader at my company often says, You can have it all. You just can't have it all at the same time.