Door County Syndrome

Those who know me well know that I put a lot of thought into most decisions, big or small. Whether picking classes, deciding on a paper topic, spending a gift certificate, or choosing tea, I usually take longer than normal to make up my mind. I even caught myself recently spending entirely too much time in the bottled water aisle at the supermarket. There were so many to choose from!

My dad has labelled this phenomenon "Door County Syndrome" and calls me on it from time to time. Many years ago, when I was younger, during a family camping trip to Door County, Wisconsin, we visited an ice cream shop that offered so many wonderful flavors. I probably vacillated for fifteen minutes trying to decide which one I wanted.

I was reminded of my syndrome when I read this yesterday, in a post on lifehack.org:

Embrace limits: There can be no creativity without limits. Sounds strange, but limits are the cause and reason of creativity...

Infinite choice is paralyzing; limits give us something to work with — or against — so we can at least get started.

The truth and wisdom in these words is astounding. Here are some examples of ways in which I embrace this philosophy:

1) Vegetarianism - After 8+ years of not eating meat, being a vegetarian has become very much my modus operandi, and it's mostly inertia that keeps me going. But from time to time I am reminded of the actual reasons why I restrict my diet thus. It's potentially healthier, better for the environment, less gross, etc. Another positive aspect, however, is that at restaurants it drastically reduces the number of menu items that I have to decide between. Sometimes it is a bummer when there are few or no veggie options, but I do a lot better with 4 choices than with 24.

2) Translation - I think one of the main reasons why I am so attracted to translation is that it allows for an incredible amount of creativity, but within bounds. The translator is very much a writer--he can and must be resourceful, play with words, re-express ideas in any of a number of ways, and exploit the subtleties of language, with one key restriction: the meaning of the original text must be preserved. Thus, I can write (which I have always enjoyed) without having to deal with the unpleasant "what am I going to write about" stage. Score!

Another area in which this concept of infinity vs. limits comes into play is entirely open-ended questions, which I abhor. I don't need you to formulate everything as a "yes" or "no" question, but give me something to work with, geez!