There was a time when all I needed to be happy was a box of eight Crayola crayons and a coloring book. Stretched out on the living room floor, I would color for hours in a state of bliss.
Then, I noticed that Crayola sold a box of sixteen crayons. It was nice having twice as many colors but it didn’t make me twice as happy. Finally, the store started selling an enormous box with a flip-top lid that seemed to contain hundreds of crayons—and I got one.
What I discovered was that the colors weren’t that different from each other—so having dozens to choose from was a false choice. Worse, it distracted me from doing what I loved.
That was long ago and now the whole world has exploded with choices—making it harder and harder to assemble the ingredients of happiness. Something is always missing.
But I’ve learned that even with a flip-top box, more is just more, not better. With eight crayons, I could mix all the other colors and it was a lot more creative.
Coloring with a seven-year-old recently, I felt a glimpse of forgotten bliss. “Here’s a marker with glitter,” she said. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m happy with this blue crayon.”