The heroine in my latest book refuses to fall into a courtship with a fellow island local chastising others for implying that “proximity and lack of choice are all one needs to fall in love.” But, building on my last post about my existential angst about filler, let me also ramble about the disconcerting modern trend of unlimited choice. Well, it’s disconcerting to me anyway.
Food brings this into focus. There is the phenomenon of being overweight, of course, thanks to the endless supply and choice of tasty fat and salt laden tongue luxuries. I, however, am talking about getting overwhelmed by ice cream and pasta joint’s make-your-own menu options.
I tend to do one of two things in this scenario:
1) I make something I’ve had before that someone else made and I enjoy it. Like recreating the Friendly’s Reese’s Pieces sundae.
2) I make something up, my own genius concoction, and then proceed to feel disappointed.
Now I suppose #2 becomes worth it simply because I might hit on something amazing. And maybe I’m just out of my skill set here. But these kinds of experiences make me think that the unlimited choice is simply not helpful. I do best creatively when I back myself into a corner and have to create something within a structure of some sort.
I fell in love with my husband because he was the man I was most attracted to / connected with in my college social circle. I honestly don’t think I could have found a better match on the entire planet. Just luck or am I made content by the limitations?
Is this human nature? Is this just preference? Do we all do this in some way? Are the unlimited choices of modern living a blessing, curse, both?