My friend and former Apple colleague, Prasad Kaipa — executive coach and co-author of From Smart to Wise, a guide to acting and leading with wisdom — speaks of the physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual framework of leadership and decision-making. His coaching draws on science and timeless traditions, including the Vedanta, an ancient Indian philosophy that guides living in all dimensions.

I’ve learned much from Prasad’s teaching and use his reference to the Vedantic four planes of intelligence (physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual) to navigate business challenges and make better decisions.

This morning, as I processed a difficult business choice — one of those “no turning back” decisions — I went through the planes, wrestling to do the right thing. I’d worked hard on a high stakes deal and hadn’t gotten the response I’d wanted. Rejection always deflates hope and scrambles the signals. Now I had to decide whether to go with a “runner up” offer, one that felt very different than the one I’d wanted.

Physically and emotionally, I felt dragged down about the choice I had to make — frustrated, disappointed, even a bit scared.

Intellectually, I saw the sense of the backup offer. It wasn’t what I’d wanted, but it was revenue. At least it was a deal.

Spiritually I felt disconnected, which was confusing. My body and mind felt stressed out, but there was this other sense that seemed to be detached. Although my gut, emotions, and mind thought it was a big deal, my “bigger picture” seemed to have checked out right at the moment I needed it most.

I felt disoriented: unsure how to make the right decision.

I pushed logic, aka intellect, to get more information — that’s how logic decides — and researched my runner up. Through their website and relevant partner reviews, I gathered data. It largely justified a decision to go with their offer, but something felt wrong. I noticed that my intellectual attempts at sense-making only strengthened my emotional and physical response. My stress level increased.

I flipped back to my feelings and found equal confusion. “This isn’t right,” my gut told me, but logic argued back, reminding me of practical realities, telling me a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush.

More anxiety. All that work and I still had no idea what to do: ground zero.

But I needed to decide. I took a step back, took a deep breath, and went back to scanning the levels, checking in on each one.

Physically, I felt uneasy…like I could make a wrong turn if I wasn’t careful, like I could get lost. The runner-up choice felt off somehow; I felt a cringe as I pondered it. I noticed how hard it was simply to “feel”—emotions kept running in, judgments and warnings. “Don’t make a mistake!” and “You need this work!” and “You could mess up if you’re not careful!” they blurted, but I pushed those warnings away, trying to isolate only my instincts, sense only my gut.

Emotionally, I felt cornered, defensive. I’d spent weeks working on my proposal, buoyed by early signals that it had been received well. I’d confided in a few people about the potential win, sharing my excitement and hope. I’d put myself out there, hadn’t I? Now I’d better make good on it. I wanted to save face, not have to say I’d failed. I felt the ring of ego in my emotions, a bit of an “I’ll show them” directed toward the people who had turned me down. My work was good enough to create a win even with my second-choice team, I said, with a little stamp of a cerebral foot.

I saw the petulant child of ego in my emotional response and reminded myself to be wary.

Logically, I knew saying yes to the runner up offer was a sound practical choice: my research proved that. If I’d had time to create a spreadsheet I could have absolutely justified and rationalized a yes: the data showed I could succeed on practical terms. Saying yes would mean income and clarity — both important business priorities.

Spiritually, though, I felt something different. I felt…challenged. Not in a bad way. Something told me to push harder, to dig deeper. What was it about my proposal that hadn’t won a yes from my first choice partner? How was that an “ask” to me, a sign that I wasn’t ready to get what I wanted quite yet, that I needed to lean in (in the Buddhist sense) to the resistance and see where it brought me, or what it taught me.

I had a tie. Two versus two, physical and spiritual against emotional and logical. What to do?

I went through the levels again and realized I had a winner. I decided to say no to the runner up.