Self-discovery, the paradox of choice…and mustard.
I remember my first trip to the grocery store after returning from working abroad in San Cristobal, Galápagos. (Yes, the land of Darwin and tortoises). There were only a few things on my grocery list, some produce and a bottle of mustard. Back on the island, I bought produce on Saturdays at the Mercado Municipal and picked up dry goods and other staples at Galamaxi, one of two grocery stores serving an island with more sea lions than people. Shopping at Galamaxi was exceedingly simple, as you would generally find only one type, size, and brand of the staples you needed. Island cargo ships can only carry so much, so you either bought what was available or you didn’t and that was that.
Upon returning to broader civilization, I was exceedingly excited to visit the store, as grocery shopping had always felt cathartic to me—browsing options, brainstorming meals, finding specialty items, and calculating nutrition while leaving some room for decadence. After adding produce to a cart that felt enormous, I arrived at the condiment aisle. Like a vertical yellow brick road, the mustard section beckoned me. I felt giddy by the possibilities, having fantasized for months about good gourmet products, or at least a second or even third option. I made my way down the aisle to arrive at mustard paradise. From the top to bottom shelves, at least sixty different options were carefully lined up. There were small, medium, large, and economy-size bottles. Flavors and textures ranged from whole grain to smooth and creamy to jalapeño to honey mustard. The options seemed endless, and I finally had the freedom to choose!
Yet, the more I stared at the options in this mustard wonderland, the more my head began to churn. Before long my delight had turned to panic as overwhelm bubbled up inside me. There were just so many options—too many options. How was one supposed to narrow it down to just one choice? How long was it going to take me to figure out what was best? Why didn’t they just have a sticker that said, “Best mustard choice!” instead of forcing me to scour shelves and shelves of product options? STILL WORSE, WHAT IF AFTER ASSESSING EVERY ONE OF THESE BOTTLES, I MADE THE WRONG DECISION? I felt myself spiraling out of control with the weight of this mustard quest bearing down on my shoulders. I had waited months for these options and suddenly found myself frustrated and betrayed by the experience. I suddenly longed for the simplicity of the island store and felt a bizarre gratitude toward being freed from the necessity of the thinking, feeling, and pondering which goes along with making a choice.
Needless to say, I did make a selection and fortunately, the mustard apocalypse never came. I tell you this story not for the purpose of sharing my passion for mustard, but because I find myself reflecting on this experience as I regularly encounter the paradox of choice. A few months ago having more space and time for self-discovery, exploration, learning, and unlearning sounded like the dream situation. Yet some days having a blank slate, limited predictability, and an unstructured life feels terrifying and overwhelming. Most people wouldn’t assume that designing each day with selfish intentionality or having the ability to reconfigure the future would not be quite so paralyzing and angering at times. But, here we are. So, while certainly not seeking pity or empathy for my current life situation, I do invite you to take a moment to take stock in the value that can come with the comfort of knowing, the freedom of limitations, and the monotony of routine. Existing in a world of vast possibility can be a beautiful ugly thing.
Until next time, y’all be kind out there.
