When you’re “pot committed”

There’s a term in poker that (like many aspects of poker) also applies to real life. Especially as we age and our days (if not our cards) are numbered.

“Pot committed” is when a player has committed so many chips into the pot — relative to their remaining stack — that they’re mathematically committed to playing their hand through to the end. Think of a career job you can’t afford to leave when retirement is nigh. Or long-term marriage. You’re in deep enough that quitting makes no sense. Regardless of the hand you’ve been dealt.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s how I’m feeling about my life right now.

For 14 years, I’ve lived alone. I’ve never been all that good about sharing. And I’ve never had a good poker face. Yet, I’m making the big bet to relocate from Denver to Lake Tahoe with my partner of only three years. He’s also betting the farm.

Sure there’s risk. And the outcome is uncertain. But we’ve got skills, and so far, we’ve also had luck. And there’s even more good news.

In life — unlike in poker — we get to play the same hand, together. Since we’re not competing for the pot, both of us stand to win big.

Speaking of…thanks to a friend who knows the author, I’ve recently flipped through Thinking in Bets: Making Smarter Decisions When You Don’t Have All the Facts by Annie Duke. She parlayed her 2004 win at the World Series of Poker to become a decision-making expert, author, and speaker. With a PhD in cognitive psychology, she teaches “decision science” at Harvard and no longer plays cards.

Her premise is this:

By shifting your thinking from a need for certainty to a goal of accurately assessing what you know and what you don't know, you can become more confident, calm, compassionate, and successful.

A lucky hand — or a lucky swipe on Bumble — doesn’t necessarily lead to a win. So Duke says it’s best to think in bets. What are the possible ways things could turn out? What decision has the highest odds of success?

At 60-plus, any big decision is daunting. We don’t know how many hands we have left. So it’s best to be clear-eyed about a few key things while we wholeheartedly play the game.

Our future health and the future health of our partner. We’ve been transparent about our health histories, but there will be surprises. Because women tend to live about four years longer than men, I (at 66) am happy I have a few years on my Mountain Mensch (who is 62). Best case: we’ll stay healthy and croak at about the same time. Worst case: we’ll have a compassionate caretaker in the house.

Our future finances. When we finally had the nerve to share our numbers — eek! — we knew we were financially compatible. Though we’ll keep our finances separate, we have the means to share household expenses and take occasional vacations. The economy is a dumpster fire right now, and gas prices in California are higher than anywhere in the U.S. But if/when the market goes belly up, we’ll be better off together.

How our relationship and friendship will evolve. As two independent grownups, we’ll continue to seek adventure. We don’t know where that will take us — solo and as a couple — but we’ve both seen kindness in the other. As long our bodies and minds hold up, we’ll continue to ski and hike and cycle together. To hedge our bets, we’ll also practice being still. Maybe I can convince him to sleep in once in a while.

So, what’s the bottom line here?

At 60-plus, or any age, there’s nothing wrong with being analytical. Whether we’ve been with our partners and in our places for a long, long time, or we’re trying something new, life is basically a game of chance.

And we all can hit the jackpot!