paralyzed (metaphorically speaking)
Is there anyone else besides me who feels overwhelmed by the amount of choice available in your average store?This evening I stopped by the local chain drugstore to look for something to help support my wrist. It's hurting less these days, so I am attempting a little more knitting, but I thought it would be nice to see what was available.
Also, my feet have been hurting during my morning walk. So I strolled over to the insoles.
Did I want the sports or work insoles? The gel? The massaging? Arch supports? Men or women? Trim to fit? I was overwhelmed by the shades of Dr. Scholl's blue.
There were so many choices that I was visually paralyzed. I did not buy any insoles.
I did find a small wrist support glove, which did come home with me. There were many choices in this area as well; this one at least had a helpful chart on the side to help me figure out what size I needed.
But I wonder how much of our society's uneasiness rests in feeling overwhelmed by the amount of choice and change offered to us for simple daily tasks. Perhaps we need the Good News for the lame, the blind and the paralyzed more than ever.
posted by Emily @ 7:58 PM
3 Comments:
There are times that I think that the amount of choice we have is ludicrous given the number of people in this world who have next to nothing.
It also strikes me when I hear other folks talking about the cars that they have - Lexus, Infiniti, Cadillac Escalade. And I drive my Civic that is sorely in need of a new muffler. (Yes, I work in a sales group.)
Then I think of myself - we have a lot - house, two cars, a daughter at an Ivy League school, a son in high school. We're replacing our roof, and we were having problems deciding on the 30, 40, 50-year shingles - and the twelve colors.
I even felt self-conscious that we lived in a house while at seminary.
At times, I think it's downright shameful, the materialism of our times in America. It's never been my goal to have a lot. (My favorite saying is - "He who dies with the most toys still dies.") But I often think that I should do more, give more, to make this world better for all. Do I? No, not very much.
The curate I worked with in Chicago loved a book called The Paradox of Choice - I never got around to reading it, but its about this kind of thing, and how all the millions of choices we have as Americans actually give us less freedom of choice. Or something like that.
My boy was sizing up toothbrushes in the local Osco, and it was a sight to see: he went stock-still for a bit, then became hyper and jittery, then finally folded like a damp napkin. I knew how he felt. Too many choices.
Besides, his dentist had just given him a toothbrush, so he didn't need one anyway.
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