Yesterday was a fine day. We were in the family car, rolling on home from an overnight trip. I had my satellite radio tuned to a children’s station, and the kids were happy in the back seat. Eventually between Jim Henson, the Wiggles, and a punk rock version of “There Was an Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe,” the kids nodded off.
It was time for my kind of music. Only, I didn’t know what to do. I had 170 satellite channels to choose from, everything from jazz to music of the 1940s to blues, rock, salsa, and 40 channels of talk. Plus I had commercial broadcast radio on tap. And I had my iPod in the car, with 7,000 songs of its own, additionally loaded down with Podcasts on hundreds of topics, 100 hours of French lessons, probably 20 hours of Spanish.
Finally, after 2 minutes in embarrassing hesitation, I randomly punched one of the program buttons on the radio. Up came a classic jazz channel.
Choice is my paralysis. It is probably a lot of people’s paralysis. When I think of all the things I could have accomplished in my life that I didn’t, I can usually trace it back to too many choices, too much hesitation. Lots of choices always seems like freedom, but this I think is illusory. Real freedom is escape from pressures and influences that distract a person from doing what is truly best for him. Choice can be the antipathy of freedom. In our world, where choices, especially choices about how to spend our money, are nearly endless, lots of options can be harmful. When I am overwhelmed by choices, I tend to get passive and simply let the choices sort themselves out. This usually has usually worked out for the worse: Barroom instead of library, TV chair instead of the weight bench, nap instead of just about everything else.
That’s what I need now. A nap. Yes.