In The Claverings, an obscure novel by one of the best-known English Victorian writers, the hero Harry Clavering wrestles with a problem that appears to have no real solution, in that both alternatives seems to be equally desirable. He is loved by the widowed Lady Ongar, who jilted him some years before and married a wealthy aristocrat who has died and left her rich. Julia Ongar is beautiful, witty, repentant of her treatment of Harry, and very wealthy. But meanwhile Harry has become engaged to a girl from a simple but wholesome background, Florence Burton. She is intelligent, pretty, loyal, and trusting -- but poor. For much of the book, Harry is torn in two by this dilemma. When he is with Florence, he knows that he is truly in love with her; but in the presence of Julia, he remembers his old love and yearns for it. What should Harry do?

It's a problem that engages the reader too, making this one of the best of the author's minor works. What is so compelling, of course, is that Harry's dilemma reminds us of our own. How often have we been confronted with a decision where either course of action appeared to be equally desirable? How many nights have we, like Harry Clavering, tossed and turned wondering what on earth we should do?

There tends to be an easy way to make these problems disappear in the twinkling of an eye. That's the good news. The bad news is that the way to do this is to take ourselves completely out of the equation -- in other words, to remove the question "what do I want?" Of course, that's the last thing we're going to do, because "what do I want?" is what caused the dilemma in the first place. For Harry, the issue becomes simple if he is able to remove his own selfish desires. He was jilted by Julia, and has no further obligation to her. He has given his word to Florence. Only his belief that he will be "happier" with one rather than the other is causing his problems. Harry has no Steps 10, 11 and 12 to help him decide. But we do.