Not so much fun.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Shucks, Schuster!
No no no no no nooooooooooooooooooo..... see what happens when you open a can of worms? They all crawl out. Yup. All over you. In a bloody mess.
Just got an email from our ward councillor to say that:
NO walls or fences are allowed ANYWHERE in our street.
Ooops.
The neighbours are really going to hate me now.
Just got an email from our ward councillor to say that:
NO walls or fences are allowed ANYWHERE in our street.
Ooops.
The neighbours are really going to hate me now.
Down the rabbit hole: Lessons in life
The saga of our fence continues. I've finally decided that it's time to tell you about it.
After we bought the house, and before we moved in, our house was burgled 3 times in 3 years. This is mainly because the house is at the end of the row, so is more accessible. Despite our 6ft wall around the back of the development, people hop over the fence and use our road as a shortcut to get to Langa station, because the only entrances and exits to Pinelands are on Forest Drive, which is miles away. One of their favourite spots for hopping the wall is right next to our back fence. (You have to give them credit for ingenuity though - they use an earthing wire to pull themselves up and over - a bit like spiderman...)
Understandably then, I was very nervous about moving into the house. In order to increase our security we put up a palisade fence around the front of the house. What we didn't do though, was follow the plans. (Lesson #1: Read the plans/ instruction manual FIRST. Seriously. It may save you heartache and money. Don't be so bloody male about everything and dive in head first.)
We put the fence up right on the kerb. (Let's be clear about this - G had NOTHING to do with this decision. I accept full responsibility for the fence's position.) Our street boundary is about 4.5m or 5m from the kerb, at the edge of our garage. Given how easy it is to break through our garage door (which would give easy access to the house), I didn't want to make it easy for that to happen. I wanted to be able to work in the garage, with the garage door open, but still be safe and secure. I also wanted to be able to park both cars behind a security fence. Neither of those things are possible if you put the fence on the boundary. (And with a baby in the house, security is really important to me... and of course, there's the fact that I'm a woman, and my maid is a woman, and rape really isn't a pleasant experience for women.)
In addition, I don't want people walking across my driveway to go around the corner and hop over the development wall. We already have a problem with vagrants sleeping against our garage wall and leaving their faeces and rubbish behind (my dogs love it, but me? not so much). I didn't want them to be able to use my driveway as well (here lies MY boundary).
Someone complained about our fence. I'm fairly sure I know who it is (I know who you are and I know where you live!), because in the first few months of us being here (starting during our renovation works before we actually moved in) we had several complaints. If I'm right, this person just likes to complain about everything and is a general neighbourhood nuisance. (Shame on you!) (Lesson #2: Neighbours in a small neighbourhood know EVERYTHING. "We, Toys, see EVERYTHING.")
However, the complaint did make a valid point that I didn't consider when we erected the fence: being on the kerb means drivers have to slow down as they go around the blind corner. (Of course, drivers should be slowing down anyway, but some don't.) If two cars were to pass each other in front of our house (which is RIGHT on the corner), and one was to veer past the mid-line (as happens when you don't slow down around a blind corner), then the other car would bash its side view mirror on our fence if it tried to veer out of the way. (Lesson #3: Don't be so bloodyminded all the time, Woman - ask others for advice before making major decisions, because maybe they know or can see a side to something you can't or haven't.)
In retrospect, I should have put the fence 50cm from the kerb to avoid that problem. (Lesson #4: I can actually admit when I've made a mistake. Even if it takes me several months to get there. Eventually, I'll admit it.) If I had, then whoever complained probably never would have. Maybe. Anyway!
As a result of the complaint, we received a visit from the council, who immediately sent us a demand letter giving us 10 days to move our fence. The threat was that if we didn't, they would, and they'd bill us for it. I duly wrote to them to explain why the fence was where it is. I explained that I would be happy to move the fence back by 50cm or so, but I was not happy to move it back to the boundary, for the reasons I've outlined above. I also said that I didn't have the money to move the fence at the moment, and that if they did it and billed us, we would not be able to pay them either.
The council replied to say, in effect, "tough". (Lesson #5: The council doesn't care. Ever.)
We then looked at leasing a portion of the verge, but it will cost us R5000 to apply, several months to process, and there is no guarantee our application will be successful. (The monthly fee is quite small, so it would be feasible from that perspective.) R5000 is a lot of money to just throw away like that if the application is unsuccessful. Plus, in the meantime, we would still have to move the fence back to our boundary and then move it forwards again if our application was successful. (Talk about a las... I really should just have put the fence 50cm from the kerb.) (Lesson #6: see Lesson #1)
Off I went then, to double check with the council that the street boundary was where it appears on the plan, because 5m is a LOT further from the kerb than is normal (2.5m - 3m is usual). That investigation was delayed while the council tried to find their copies of our plans (our copies went missing during the kitchen renovation). After several days, the plans arrived. I scrutinised them and discovered that (shock! horror!) either everyone else also has their fences in illegal positions, or the plans are wrong. (Lesson #7: Even bad stuff can have a positive spin off...)
So today I went back to the council, with my dearest dad in tow (as he's a surveyor by trade) to help me. (Let me play the dumb blonde!) (Lesson #8: Parents never stop being needed. Children are a responsibility for LIFE. Like a life sentence, but longer, more complicated and more expensive.) What we discovered is that Field Close is, almost certainly, a private road (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF?!?!) (Lesson #9: Expect the unexpected), but that the legalities of setting up the Home Owners' Association were never followed through on. While the legal bungle is fine by me (HOAs are always a pain), what that means is that - if we're right and the road is a private one - we don't have to move the fence!!! (Lesson #10: Council screw up a lot. If you catch them at it, you can save your ass.)
Hooray!!
Of course, if our street IS private, then that means we own the council money anyway, for back taxes for rates on the verges which we (and they!) didn't know we owned. And that could work out to be quite a hefty sum. Boo! (Lesson # 11: Council always get their pound of flesh, one way or the other.)
If our street is private, then I think we'll go ahead and move the fence back 50cm anyway, to appease our neighbours. I can live with 50cm - it means we can still park a 2nd car behind the gate and it means I can work in the garage with the door open and not feel at risk, but it still keeps the vagrants and their mess off my driveway. And if it keeps Old Complainer off our backs, then that's not a bad thing either.
So now the ball is in the council's court again. It'll be interesting to see how they respond. Of course, it may be that our street isn't private after all (in which case, the council plans of our suburb are wrong!). But until the matter is resolved, the fence stays where it is. (Lesson #12: Perseverance wins the day.)
After we bought the house, and before we moved in, our house was burgled 3 times in 3 years. This is mainly because the house is at the end of the row, so is more accessible. Despite our 6ft wall around the back of the development, people hop over the fence and use our road as a shortcut to get to Langa station, because the only entrances and exits to Pinelands are on Forest Drive, which is miles away. One of their favourite spots for hopping the wall is right next to our back fence. (You have to give them credit for ingenuity though - they use an earthing wire to pull themselves up and over - a bit like spiderman...)
Understandably then, I was very nervous about moving into the house. In order to increase our security we put up a palisade fence around the front of the house. What we didn't do though, was follow the plans. (Lesson #1: Read the plans/ instruction manual FIRST. Seriously. It may save you heartache and money. Don't be so bloody male about everything and dive in head first.)
We put the fence up right on the kerb. (Let's be clear about this - G had NOTHING to do with this decision. I accept full responsibility for the fence's position.) Our street boundary is about 4.5m or 5m from the kerb, at the edge of our garage. Given how easy it is to break through our garage door (which would give easy access to the house), I didn't want to make it easy for that to happen. I wanted to be able to work in the garage, with the garage door open, but still be safe and secure. I also wanted to be able to park both cars behind a security fence. Neither of those things are possible if you put the fence on the boundary. (And with a baby in the house, security is really important to me... and of course, there's the fact that I'm a woman, and my maid is a woman, and rape really isn't a pleasant experience for women.)
In addition, I don't want people walking across my driveway to go around the corner and hop over the development wall. We already have a problem with vagrants sleeping against our garage wall and leaving their faeces and rubbish behind (my dogs love it, but me? not so much). I didn't want them to be able to use my driveway as well (here lies MY boundary).
Someone complained about our fence. I'm fairly sure I know who it is (I know who you are and I know where you live!), because in the first few months of us being here (starting during our renovation works before we actually moved in) we had several complaints. If I'm right, this person just likes to complain about everything and is a general neighbourhood nuisance. (Shame on you!) (Lesson #2: Neighbours in a small neighbourhood know EVERYTHING. "We, Toys, see EVERYTHING.")
However, the complaint did make a valid point that I didn't consider when we erected the fence: being on the kerb means drivers have to slow down as they go around the blind corner. (Of course, drivers should be slowing down anyway, but some don't.) If two cars were to pass each other in front of our house (which is RIGHT on the corner), and one was to veer past the mid-line (as happens when you don't slow down around a blind corner), then the other car would bash its side view mirror on our fence if it tried to veer out of the way. (Lesson #3: Don't be so bloodyminded all the time, Woman - ask others for advice before making major decisions, because maybe they know or can see a side to something you can't or haven't.)
In retrospect, I should have put the fence 50cm from the kerb to avoid that problem. (Lesson #4: I can actually admit when I've made a mistake. Even if it takes me several months to get there. Eventually, I'll admit it.) If I had, then whoever complained probably never would have. Maybe. Anyway!
As a result of the complaint, we received a visit from the council, who immediately sent us a demand letter giving us 10 days to move our fence. The threat was that if we didn't, they would, and they'd bill us for it. I duly wrote to them to explain why the fence was where it is. I explained that I would be happy to move the fence back by 50cm or so, but I was not happy to move it back to the boundary, for the reasons I've outlined above. I also said that I didn't have the money to move the fence at the moment, and that if they did it and billed us, we would not be able to pay them either.
The council replied to say, in effect, "tough". (Lesson #5: The council doesn't care. Ever.)
We then looked at leasing a portion of the verge, but it will cost us R5000 to apply, several months to process, and there is no guarantee our application will be successful. (The monthly fee is quite small, so it would be feasible from that perspective.) R5000 is a lot of money to just throw away like that if the application is unsuccessful. Plus, in the meantime, we would still have to move the fence back to our boundary and then move it forwards again if our application was successful. (Talk about a las... I really should just have put the fence 50cm from the kerb.) (Lesson #6: see Lesson #1)
Off I went then, to double check with the council that the street boundary was where it appears on the plan, because 5m is a LOT further from the kerb than is normal (2.5m - 3m is usual). That investigation was delayed while the council tried to find their copies of our plans (our copies went missing during the kitchen renovation). After several days, the plans arrived. I scrutinised them and discovered that (shock! horror!) either everyone else also has their fences in illegal positions, or the plans are wrong. (Lesson #7: Even bad stuff can have a positive spin off...)
So today I went back to the council, with my dearest dad in tow (as he's a surveyor by trade) to help me. (Let me play the dumb blonde!) (Lesson #8: Parents never stop being needed. Children are a responsibility for LIFE. Like a life sentence, but longer, more complicated and more expensive.) What we discovered is that Field Close is, almost certainly, a private road (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF?!?!) (Lesson #9: Expect the unexpected), but that the legalities of setting up the Home Owners' Association were never followed through on. While the legal bungle is fine by me (HOAs are always a pain), what that means is that - if we're right and the road is a private one - we don't have to move the fence!!! (Lesson #10: Council screw up a lot. If you catch them at it, you can save your ass.)
Hooray!!
Of course, if our street IS private, then that means we own the council money anyway, for back taxes for rates on the verges which we (and they!) didn't know we owned. And that could work out to be quite a hefty sum. Boo! (Lesson # 11: Council always get their pound of flesh, one way or the other.)
If our street is private, then I think we'll go ahead and move the fence back 50cm anyway, to appease our neighbours. I can live with 50cm - it means we can still park a 2nd car behind the gate and it means I can work in the garage with the door open and not feel at risk, but it still keeps the vagrants and their mess off my driveway. And if it keeps Old Complainer off our backs, then that's not a bad thing either.
So now the ball is in the council's court again. It'll be interesting to see how they respond. Of course, it may be that our street isn't private after all (in which case, the council plans of our suburb are wrong!). But until the matter is resolved, the fence stays where it is. (Lesson #12: Perseverance wins the day.)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Nate's dedication
Today we dedicated the little man to God. His name means "Gift of God" and that he is. We recognise that because Nate is a gift, we are merely stewards of his life. He belongs, first and foremost, to God. As such, we choose to raise him within the community of faith that is the church, teaching him to obey all that Christ has revealed to us and taught us. We will need God's help to be the best parents to Nate that we can be.
We hide Nate under the wings of the Almighty, and cover him in Christ's blood, that no harm or evil may befall him. Our prayer for Nate on this special day is that he will grow into faith himself, choosing to find his identity in Christ. We ask that he will grow into all that God has planned and prepared for him, choosing never to compromise or shirk God's will. May he walk the path God has called him to and may he complete all the good works that God has prepared in advance for him to do. May his life be fruitful, and may he bring words of life, hope, encouragement, joy and peace to everyone he meets. May his gifts and talents find their greatest expression in glorifying God. May he share in his Creator's creativity and develop an enquiring mind. May anger, depression, pride and rebellion have no place in his heart. Rather, may the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control) grow daily in him. May he be filled with the Spirit to the fullest measure. May he know the voice of the Lord and be obedient to it. May he know the height, depth, breadth and width of God's love for him, and may he never doubt either God's love for him, or our love for him.
We hide Nate under the wings of the Almighty, and cover him in Christ's blood, that no harm or evil may befall him. Our prayer for Nate on this special day is that he will grow into faith himself, choosing to find his identity in Christ. We ask that he will grow into all that God has planned and prepared for him, choosing never to compromise or shirk God's will. May he walk the path God has called him to and may he complete all the good works that God has prepared in advance for him to do. May his life be fruitful, and may he bring words of life, hope, encouragement, joy and peace to everyone he meets. May his gifts and talents find their greatest expression in glorifying God. May he share in his Creator's creativity and develop an enquiring mind. May anger, depression, pride and rebellion have no place in his heart. Rather, may the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control) grow daily in him. May he be filled with the Spirit to the fullest measure. May he know the voice of the Lord and be obedient to it. May he know the height, depth, breadth and width of God's love for him, and may he never doubt either God's love for him, or our love for him.
Junior fishbowls
On Wednesday I took Janel to have a full OT assessment. Given that she was born 7 weeks prem, we've had lingering concerns about her development. Comments from her teacher at nursery have played into our concerns. Upon discussing some of our concerns with her paed, he advised us (if for no other reason that to allay our fears) to have her assessed.
On Friday, G and I went back to hear the report. It's mostly good news: she's FINE. In some areas, like in building a tower with particular blocks, the OT said she'd never had a child her age use all the blocks, or so quickly, to build such a well balanced tower. *parental glow*. In others (like completing a 3-D maze) she didn't score so well. However, the overall report is that she's reached every milestone she should have for her developmental age and has no lingering physical problems that are not typical for her age group.
The bad news. There's always bad news. The bad news is that her emotional landscape is fractured. (Those are my words, not the OT's.) This means that she's not coping well with stress, and has adopted the detachment strategy for coping. Hmm... Actually, as I said to G as we were leaving, this assessment has really boosted my confidence in my own parenting skills. The reason for that is that I knew this. Intuitively I knew this. I knew that Janel has no physical problems. I knew that all the odd physical and behavioural things we have been seeing and dealing with were not because she was incapable, but because she was trying to express something going on internally for which she has neither the vocabulary nor the cognisance to recognise. The fact that I knew this means that I really do know my child and that my instincts about her are right. When it comes to Nellie, "I really should listen to [myself] more often". (Sorry - that's a very personal family joke.)
Reflecting on her life, this internal scatteredness she's experiencing is no surprise. She was only 9 months old when I fell pregnant with Zoe, and that pregnancy was horrible, so I wasn't feeling great and so wasn't really being a good Mommy to her. She was 16 months old when Zoe died. Not only was that a massive shock to her, but as a family it took a massive toll on us. She was only 19 months when we moved to SA - leaving her much-adored day-mother behind. She was only 22 months when she started at nursery (in itself an event that took her about 4-6 months to adjust to), and 23 months when we moved house again. She was then nearly 3 years when I fell pregnant again (another time of Mommy being a bad Mommy because I felt so ill and sore, but both of us were feeling paranoid and stressed about the possibility of losing him), and then Nathan was born 3 months ago. Plus, we moved house AGAIN 4 months ago. That's a pretty big catalogue of major events to deal with for any person, let alone a small child who can't express what she's thinking and feeling.
Under the circumstances, I think she's done amazingly. The OT said she suspects that Janel has the potential to be a BRILLIANT child. I agree. She's being hampered by her inner turmoil, tying her up in knots and making it difficult for her to adequately participate in group activities.
Knowing this is good news. It means there is something we can do. Thus, we're strongly considering a short course of play therapy sessions for her, helping her to not only process all she's been through in her short life, but also to create some inner infrastructure for her so that she can continue to develop and grow into the beautiful person she is.
Of course, this assessment has cost us an arm and a leg. But I think it's worth it. I want my child to be able to make the right choices in her life. At the moment, when she's faced with a choice she can't handle, she's choosing not to engage - it's the whole paralysis thing again (see yesterday's post). She'd rather detach than engage. She can play on her own happily for quite a while, but put her in a group situation and she's overwhelmed by the choices she has to make. I'm hoping that by helping her to create her own fishbowl, or at least give her the tools to do so, we will be enabling her to deal with the anxiety she feels and that, ultimately, she will be a better and happier person for it.
And if not, well, she will have had some very expensive play dates!
On Friday, G and I went back to hear the report. It's mostly good news: she's FINE. In some areas, like in building a tower with particular blocks, the OT said she'd never had a child her age use all the blocks, or so quickly, to build such a well balanced tower. *parental glow*. In others (like completing a 3-D maze) she didn't score so well. However, the overall report is that she's reached every milestone she should have for her developmental age and has no lingering physical problems that are not typical for her age group.
The bad news. There's always bad news. The bad news is that her emotional landscape is fractured. (Those are my words, not the OT's.) This means that she's not coping well with stress, and has adopted the detachment strategy for coping. Hmm... Actually, as I said to G as we were leaving, this assessment has really boosted my confidence in my own parenting skills. The reason for that is that I knew this. Intuitively I knew this. I knew that Janel has no physical problems. I knew that all the odd physical and behavioural things we have been seeing and dealing with were not because she was incapable, but because she was trying to express something going on internally for which she has neither the vocabulary nor the cognisance to recognise. The fact that I knew this means that I really do know my child and that my instincts about her are right. When it comes to Nellie, "I really should listen to [myself] more often". (Sorry - that's a very personal family joke.)
Reflecting on her life, this internal scatteredness she's experiencing is no surprise. She was only 9 months old when I fell pregnant with Zoe, and that pregnancy was horrible, so I wasn't feeling great and so wasn't really being a good Mommy to her. She was 16 months old when Zoe died. Not only was that a massive shock to her, but as a family it took a massive toll on us. She was only 19 months when we moved to SA - leaving her much-adored day-mother behind. She was only 22 months when she started at nursery (in itself an event that took her about 4-6 months to adjust to), and 23 months when we moved house again. She was then nearly 3 years when I fell pregnant again (another time of Mommy being a bad Mommy because I felt so ill and sore, but both of us were feeling paranoid and stressed about the possibility of losing him), and then Nathan was born 3 months ago. Plus, we moved house AGAIN 4 months ago. That's a pretty big catalogue of major events to deal with for any person, let alone a small child who can't express what she's thinking and feeling.
Under the circumstances, I think she's done amazingly. The OT said she suspects that Janel has the potential to be a BRILLIANT child. I agree. She's being hampered by her inner turmoil, tying her up in knots and making it difficult for her to adequately participate in group activities.
Knowing this is good news. It means there is something we can do. Thus, we're strongly considering a short course of play therapy sessions for her, helping her to not only process all she's been through in her short life, but also to create some inner infrastructure for her so that she can continue to develop and grow into the beautiful person she is.
Of course, this assessment has cost us an arm and a leg. But I think it's worth it. I want my child to be able to make the right choices in her life. At the moment, when she's faced with a choice she can't handle, she's choosing not to engage - it's the whole paralysis thing again (see yesterday's post). She'd rather detach than engage. She can play on her own happily for quite a while, but put her in a group situation and she's overwhelmed by the choices she has to make. I'm hoping that by helping her to create her own fishbowl, or at least give her the tools to do so, we will be enabling her to deal with the anxiety she feels and that, ultimately, she will be a better and happier person for it.
And if not, well, she will have had some very expensive play dates!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
We need a fishbowl
The thing with fishbowls is that they limit the fish, in terms of where they can swim. That seems rather obvious, I know, but it is important to consider this, because it has massive ramifications.
I recently came across a website called TEDtalks. It's a video hosting site for inspirational talks. This morning I watched a 20 minute talk by Barry Schwartz, on his latest book 'The paradox of choice: why less is more". Being the good student that I am, I took notes. Briefly, his arguments were that:
1) Increasing the number of choices we have increases our inability to make a choice, thus increasing paralysis. He quoted a study in which it was found that for every 10-fold increase in the number of medical plans they offered, companies saw a 2% drop in the uptake of ANY medical plan by their employees. I get this. When I'm faced with 10 different types of shampoo, it takes me HOURS to make a decision. Give me only 2 and I can tell you immediately which one I want. (This doesn't work with chocolate as I'll want all 10. THAT decision is easy.)
2) Increasing the number of choices we have decreases our satisfaction with the choice we ultimately make, because we feel there should be a choice that is perfect in every way (which there isn't). So true. Clothes shopping is like that for me. There are SO many different types of jeans now... firstly I have to get the right size (which is brand dependent), then I have to decide on a colour (blue, red, black, green, white, stonewashed, acid washed, etc, etc), then I have to decide on whether I want a hipster or full waisted pair, and then I have to decide what leg shape I want (boot-leg is my usual favourite, so that's fairly easy), and the type of fit I want (regular, slim, etc). NO WONDER it takes me ages to work through the various combinations and try on the resulting possible matches. And then, once you find the pair that fits best (note: NOT the perfect fit, because nothing fits me perfectly anymore), I then have to work up the guts to pay the ridiculous price attached.
3) There are opportunity costs involved in every choice. ie. every time you make a choice FOR something, you are also making a choice AGAINST something else. I learnt this lesson while in the UK. G and I were very jealous about his siblings' travel exploits, until we realised that we'd made different choices, and that neither set of choices was right or wrong. We discovered that we're creatures of habit: we like to have a fixed abode with our creature comforts; we like to have a regular place of employment; we like to have a relatively stable network of friends around us. We DON'T like constantly having to share our space (including our bathroom) with 5 others; we don't like having to work out which trains/ tubes/ buses we were going to use to get to work; we don't like having to phone up the agencies all the time to get work; we don't like being away from our friends. The cost of the travel opportunity is all those things we don't like. The cost of the non-travel opportunities are that we never travelled as much as we wanted to. Once we realised that though, the stress of those choices faded. (We'd still love to go travelling more, but now it will have to wait until the kids are a bit older.)
4) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased expectations that there should be a perfect choice. When I go out for a meal, not only should what I feel like be on the menu, but it should be perfectly prepared. Enter: the DIY menu. I'll have the XYZ burger, but with the sauce & onions on the side, with extra ABC and NO GHERKINS! (or whatever....) If we can't get the perfect choice, then everything else feels second best. And who honestly wants second best?
5) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased personal responsibility for our own happiness, and thus to increased depression. This one is quite simple. When there was only one choice, if you didn't like it, you could blame "them" - the manufacturers, the people in charge, the world. Now that there are lots of choices, ONE of them should match you. Thus, if you are unhappy with your choice, it's your own fault for not choosing correctly.
Barry summed up by saying: Some choice is better than no choice, but more choice is NOT better than some choice. There is clearly a tipping point, at which the 'some' becomes 'more'. When I travelled through southern Africa I was struck once again by how happy those with nothing (or very little) are. They have a joy that isn't affected by how much they have, or what they're wearing, or where they live. Their joy is a simple joy at being alive and having real community. It's a godly joy.
The paradox of choice is a problem for the affluent, no doubt about it, but it's about having access to too many things - whether they are experiences or goods. If you have the opportunity to go on holiday EVERY holiday period and you have the luxury of choice in your destination, then pretty soon you become disillusioned with all these fabulous places, and with going on holiday. If you only have the option of going on holiday to one or two places, or only once a year, then you truly appreciate what you have.
The paradox of choice says that having lots of choices is bad for one. The simple solution is to limit your own choices. Since the fishbowl we used to live in has been smashed, it is up to each of us to recreate our own fishbowl. When we go out for a meal, I always start limiting my own choices before I even get there. I ask myself one simple question - do I want a veggie, beef, prok, chicken or fish/ seafood meal? By limiting myself to only 6 choices, and by making that decision BEFORE I get into the restaurant, it makes my decisions about the meal a lot easier, because by choosing one option, I'm cutting out a whole bunch of other decisions that I might need to make. If I decide, for example, that I want a seafood meal, then I already know that I won't have a starter. That's because seafood is usually more expensive and I don't have a lot of cash to splash out on. I also know that if I'm not having a starter, I will definitely be having a pudding. (Well, actually, no, I always have pud, no matter what meal I choose...) But you get the idea.
Of course, we're so accustomed to having a wide range of choices that limiting oneself feels silly and antiquated. But it works. On occasions when I don't limit my meal choices, I seldom have a good dining experience. When I do, I usually have a great meal. Take a few weeks back - we went out to Constantia Nek Restaurant. Before we'd even arrived I knew I wanted the roast. Now I haven't been to this particular restaurant in well over a decade, probably more like 2, so I had no way of knowing what the quality of food there was. I still barely glanced at the menu. I wanted the roast. I ordered said roast. It arrived. It was GLORIOUS! That might be coincidence, except that I've had the same sort of dining experience far too many times for it to be just conincidence. I never really knew what it was. Now I do.
When I choose to live in the fishbowl, life is actually better.
Of course, the fishbowl is also a metaphor for Jesus. When I choose to live as a Christian, in relationship with Christ, limiting myself to following his guidelines for life, then life is actually better. I have fewer choices in life, and therefore my overall sense of joy is higher. When I choose not to limit myself in this way (the Christian jargon for this is that I dethrone Christ and put myself on the throne of my life), then life isn't quite so good.
So - what fishbowls do you construct for yourself? or what fishbowls SHOULD you construct for yourself? What limitations on choice should you impose on yourself, in order to increase your overall joy and happiness?
I recently came across a website called TEDtalks. It's a video hosting site for inspirational talks. This morning I watched a 20 minute talk by Barry Schwartz, on his latest book 'The paradox of choice: why less is more". Being the good student that I am, I took notes. Briefly, his arguments were that:
1) Increasing the number of choices we have increases our inability to make a choice, thus increasing paralysis. He quoted a study in which it was found that for every 10-fold increase in the number of medical plans they offered, companies saw a 2% drop in the uptake of ANY medical plan by their employees. I get this. When I'm faced with 10 different types of shampoo, it takes me HOURS to make a decision. Give me only 2 and I can tell you immediately which one I want. (This doesn't work with chocolate as I'll want all 10. THAT decision is easy.)
2) Increasing the number of choices we have decreases our satisfaction with the choice we ultimately make, because we feel there should be a choice that is perfect in every way (which there isn't). So true. Clothes shopping is like that for me. There are SO many different types of jeans now... firstly I have to get the right size (which is brand dependent), then I have to decide on a colour (blue, red, black, green, white, stonewashed, acid washed, etc, etc), then I have to decide on whether I want a hipster or full waisted pair, and then I have to decide what leg shape I want (boot-leg is my usual favourite, so that's fairly easy), and the type of fit I want (regular, slim, etc). NO WONDER it takes me ages to work through the various combinations and try on the resulting possible matches. And then, once you find the pair that fits best (note: NOT the perfect fit, because nothing fits me perfectly anymore), I then have to work up the guts to pay the ridiculous price attached.
3) There are opportunity costs involved in every choice. ie. every time you make a choice FOR something, you are also making a choice AGAINST something else. I learnt this lesson while in the UK. G and I were very jealous about his siblings' travel exploits, until we realised that we'd made different choices, and that neither set of choices was right or wrong. We discovered that we're creatures of habit: we like to have a fixed abode with our creature comforts; we like to have a regular place of employment; we like to have a relatively stable network of friends around us. We DON'T like constantly having to share our space (including our bathroom) with 5 others; we don't like having to work out which trains/ tubes/ buses we were going to use to get to work; we don't like having to phone up the agencies all the time to get work; we don't like being away from our friends. The cost of the travel opportunity is all those things we don't like. The cost of the non-travel opportunities are that we never travelled as much as we wanted to. Once we realised that though, the stress of those choices faded. (We'd still love to go travelling more, but now it will have to wait until the kids are a bit older.)
4) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased expectations that there should be a perfect choice. When I go out for a meal, not only should what I feel like be on the menu, but it should be perfectly prepared. Enter: the DIY menu. I'll have the XYZ burger, but with the sauce & onions on the side, with extra ABC and NO GHERKINS! (or whatever....) If we can't get the perfect choice, then everything else feels second best. And who honestly wants second best?
5) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased personal responsibility for our own happiness, and thus to increased depression. This one is quite simple. When there was only one choice, if you didn't like it, you could blame "them" - the manufacturers, the people in charge, the world. Now that there are lots of choices, ONE of them should match you. Thus, if you are unhappy with your choice, it's your own fault for not choosing correctly.
Barry summed up by saying: Some choice is better than no choice, but more choice is NOT better than some choice. There is clearly a tipping point, at which the 'some' becomes 'more'. When I travelled through southern Africa I was struck once again by how happy those with nothing (or very little) are. They have a joy that isn't affected by how much they have, or what they're wearing, or where they live. Their joy is a simple joy at being alive and having real community. It's a godly joy.
The paradox of choice is a problem for the affluent, no doubt about it, but it's about having access to too many things - whether they are experiences or goods. If you have the opportunity to go on holiday EVERY holiday period and you have the luxury of choice in your destination, then pretty soon you become disillusioned with all these fabulous places, and with going on holiday. If you only have the option of going on holiday to one or two places, or only once a year, then you truly appreciate what you have.
The paradox of choice says that having lots of choices is bad for one. The simple solution is to limit your own choices. Since the fishbowl we used to live in has been smashed, it is up to each of us to recreate our own fishbowl. When we go out for a meal, I always start limiting my own choices before I even get there. I ask myself one simple question - do I want a veggie, beef, prok, chicken or fish/ seafood meal? By limiting myself to only 6 choices, and by making that decision BEFORE I get into the restaurant, it makes my decisions about the meal a lot easier, because by choosing one option, I'm cutting out a whole bunch of other decisions that I might need to make. If I decide, for example, that I want a seafood meal, then I already know that I won't have a starter. That's because seafood is usually more expensive and I don't have a lot of cash to splash out on. I also know that if I'm not having a starter, I will definitely be having a pudding. (Well, actually, no, I always have pud, no matter what meal I choose...) But you get the idea.
Of course, we're so accustomed to having a wide range of choices that limiting oneself feels silly and antiquated. But it works. On occasions when I don't limit my meal choices, I seldom have a good dining experience. When I do, I usually have a great meal. Take a few weeks back - we went out to Constantia Nek Restaurant. Before we'd even arrived I knew I wanted the roast. Now I haven't been to this particular restaurant in well over a decade, probably more like 2, so I had no way of knowing what the quality of food there was. I still barely glanced at the menu. I wanted the roast. I ordered said roast. It arrived. It was GLORIOUS! That might be coincidence, except that I've had the same sort of dining experience far too many times for it to be just conincidence. I never really knew what it was. Now I do.
When I choose to live in the fishbowl, life is actually better.
Of course, the fishbowl is also a metaphor for Jesus. When I choose to live as a Christian, in relationship with Christ, limiting myself to following his guidelines for life, then life is actually better. I have fewer choices in life, and therefore my overall sense of joy is higher. When I choose not to limit myself in this way (the Christian jargon for this is that I dethrone Christ and put myself on the throne of my life), then life isn't quite so good.
So - what fishbowls do you construct for yourself? or what fishbowls SHOULD you construct for yourself? What limitations on choice should you impose on yourself, in order to increase your overall joy and happiness?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)