The Magnet Dilemma

Collecting magnets to mark my travels has quietly become a hobby. On my recent trip to Bintan, though, my limited exploration didn’t leave much room for shopping. My last possible chance was a souvenir shop at the ferry terminal. So, when I spotted one, I walked in and picked what seemed like the best option among the few available. It wasn’t particularly pretty—and it was overpriced at over $7—but I left satisfied. At least I had a magnet.

As I crossed immigration and boarded the ferry, my eyes landed on another souvenir shop. This one had shinier, prettier magnets—and they were cheaper. Without a second thought about the $7 magnet sitting in my bag, I bought another one.

As I walked away, now holding what I thought was the perfect magnet, it hit me: the abundance of choice often leaves us perpetually dissatisfied.

Curious, I looked it up and found that Barry Schwartz explored this exact idea over 15 years ago in his book The Paradox of Choice and a TED Talk that echoed my experience word for word.

Ever since I earned the privilege of choosing—be it the right dress, the ideal holiday, the best trainer, or even the city to live in—I’ve been chasing the next best thing. Each choice gives a momentary thrill, only to be followed by the anxiety of wondering if there’s something better. In this constant loop, I feel restless, rarely content, and often end up consuming more than I need.

This mindset, I’ve come to realize, spills into other areas of life—modern relationships included.

Today’s digital age gives the illusion of a vast pool to choose from. There’s always the lure of something seemingly better, more perfect, more alluring. This constant comparison prevents us from really connecting with anyone and eclipses the effort required to nurture what could grow into something meaningful.

Ironically, the things that have brought me the most happiness are the ones where I didn’t have much of a choice—or simply stopped choosing. Those that the things in come back to in between my adventures. They’re not perfect, but there’s a different kind of satisfaction in coming back to something constant, something familiar. Despite wandering the world and experimenting widely with food, clothing, cultures, and experiences, I’ve realized I’ve always felt the most sustained sense of joy in returning to what feels like “home.”

So, while having choices is a privilege, the illusion of endless options can become a trap. As Barry Schwartz puts it, “With so many options to choose from, people find it very difficult to choose at all.”

Wisdom lies in remembering that the ability to choose is a gift—but one that loses its meaning when taken for granted.

The Chosen One!