I sat and my mind started wandering.

Like it always does.

This time, about options.

I used to love the idea of having options.

Options for everything - crisp flavours, clothing shops, flavoured coffee, restaurants, kindergartens.

The more options I had, the better I felt.

Until, I didn’t have these options anymore.

When we moved to Slovenia, all these options disappeared.

Literally.

And just like that,

okay maybe not immediately, but eventually -

my life became simple.

In reality there just aren’t as many options in Slovenia like there is in South Africa.

We have about 4 crisp flavours to choose from.

Where we live now, I can count my favourite cafes on one hand.

No coffee size options either. Yes, this did almost kill me in the beginning but I got used to it.

There’s 1 mall in my city.

We didn’t have a choice of kindergartens because only one had space. (and by the grace of God this was the perfect one for Penny.)

Primary school? Also no options, as you get allocated to one that’s closest to you. You can move on request, but generally you are allocated to one. Theyre all on the same level. Plus, we don't have to register at 10 in hopes of getting into 1.

It suddenly didn’t take ten minutes to decide what crisps to buy,

what café to visit,

which clothing store to browse,

or what size coffee to order.

The choice was either this or that. No second-guessing, no overthinking.

At first, I was confused, maybe even frustrated, by the lack of options.

I embraced this reality but can honestly say that I now love it.

Having fewer choices has made decision-making easier, faster, and, surprisingly, more enjoyable.

Here’s a thought - we often see having options as a privilege, a luxury. But what if it’s actually a burden? A liability? Even a thief of time?

When I had endless choices, my mind was cluttered with unnecessary debates:

Which one should I pick?

Will I regret this decision?

What if something better exists?

But now?

Now, decisions are simple.

No more mental gymnastics over the smallest things.

No more wasting time weighing pros and cons over something as insignificant as which brand of pasta to buy.

No more endless hours of phone calls to 10 or even 15 different companies deciding which life insurance, car insurance or medical aid to take out.

Instead, the options are limited. So, I just choose and sometimes there isn't even a choice.

And then, I enjoy what I chose or accept when there isn't a choice.

Literally: this or that.

Not: this, or that, or that, or that, or maybe this, or perhaps even that.

Just this. Or that.

Simple.

This realisation has made me rethink how we structure our home and lifestyle. I want to start intentionally limiting options in different areas of life, with things like:

• Toys (fewer, but well-loved and actually played with)

• Books (a small collection instead of an overwhelming library)

• Activities (less running around, more enjoying the ones we do)

• Wardrobes (simple, functional pieces instead of overflowing drawers of endless options)

• Snacks (no overstuffed pantry, have of which has passed their expiry dates, just a few good options that we love and enjoy.)

Instead of feeling deprived, which I did when we first moved here, I’ve found myself appreciating what we do have even more.

This made me think of an example. Think back to when TV had only a few channels. We'd pick a show, watch it, and enjoy it. Now, with Netflix and all the other options similar to Netflix, there are thousands of options - and yet, how often do we spend way too much time scrolling, struggling to pick something to watch?

Feeling like there's 'nothing' to watch! Bizarre!

In my personal experience, more choices haven’t made me happier.

They’ve made me indecisive.

They’ve stolen my time.

They've made me a little bratty even.

They've made me not appreciate the options I do have.

I used to think options were a luxury. Now, I see them for what they really are, a distraction.

Limiting choices has made my life simpler, easier, and more enjoyable. Less time spent choosing means more time spent living.

And that, to me, is the real luxury.

Liza

xoxo