If you ever find yourself flapping about whether you're making the right decision or doing the right thing, as I often find myself doing, consider these words of Hermann Hesse's. It's an extract I pulled from one of his earlier works, "Demian".

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I had often toyed with pictures of the future, dreamed of roles which might be assigned to me - as a poet, maybe, or prophet or painter or kindred vocation. All that was futile. I was not there to write poetry, to preach or paint; neither I nor any other man was there for that purpose. They were only incidental things. There was only one true vocation for everybody - to find the way to himself. He might end as poet, lunatic, prophet or criminal - that was not his affair; ultimately it was of no account. His affair was to discover his own destiny, not something of his own choosing, and live it out wholly and resolutely with himself... [Hermann Hesse. Demian]

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Note: This all sounds very fatalistic, and that's because it is. But there is still room for free will inside the path to discovery of ones fate. The two can accommodate each other; why not?