Micro? Macro?

One message that made a mark on me in childhood was an Amar Chitra Katha panel of Buddha saying “All desires bring pain” – a statement I have reflected on extensively (probably even excessively) of late. 

I studied Economics for school certificate exams from the University of London and again at graduate school at Penn State. This is a subject that anyone, regardless of whether employed or not, actually would find comprehensible and useful – just to understand the mechanics of the world’s operations.

“I couldn’t make it after all,” said my exasperated friend. “Why not?” I asked. “There were no organic tomatoes available today.”  Life too, like Economics, is broadly divided into Micro and Macro – I realised, from the tomato chutney that did not happen.

A decade or so ago, many got absorbed in the organic movement – moving to organic milk, organic produce etc. I read up and saw many merits to it but decided not to adopt it. As someone who has cooked from-scratch meals twice a day pretty much every day whether in the US (without any househelp) or in India, it was again a case of macro over micro. The home cooking with the inclusion of a multitude of vegetables, fruits and whole grains, was crucial for me as I saw it as the biggest investment  – the family’s health. Organic vs inorganic, branded vs generic, quinoa or brown rice – all micro issues. And all desires bring pain. If I insisted on organic and could not find it, it would bother me. If I had planned on red quinoa salad and none was available, more irritation. If my family ate only organic, would they be tolerant of food when we ate out? Why create problems where there were none?

My daily walks…. Here in Madras, finding an ideal place to exercise is an impractical fantasy- getting to any such place requires several minutes, maybe even hours, of investment. Downright impossible for me. Walking is a necessity as exercise. Where I walk is not. Therefore, my choice to walk just around my own street and the next parallel one – I step out and there is my turf – no time wasted. At all. Is it a nice walk? No. Is it doable? Yes. Is it ideal? Definitely not. Can I deal with it? Definitely yes.

Restaurant choices – earlier, I would agonise over where to go with family and friends. Only to go there and find that at least one (often more) would not be happy with something or the other making me feel bad since I had made the decision. Now, I let others make the choice and merely focus on finding a dish I like in whichever restaurant we go to.  I am definitely concerned with what I order for I need to eat it without gagging or grimacing – but in India (and most places abroad), fortunately, one can find at least one acceptable dish to consume with company. One should like what one orders, definitely, but why fret about where it is ordered from (ceteris paribus)?  

Sheena Iyengar, a Professor at Columbia University, intrigued me a long time ago with her research on the problem of choice. (Going strictly from memory here) I recollect her explaining that consumers given extensive choices at grocery stores ended up more unsatisfied than those given limited ones. She also explained that she often left many choices, involving her, to others – what restaurant to go to, which hotel to stay at, what car to rent etc. By choosing to be less particular, it made her life happier overall.

We recently purchased a mattress. My husband is a fantastic researcher, regardless of subject. He had done all his homework and sat me down to explain his thought process on the one we (or, rather, he) ended up selecting. He was a tad taken aback when I told him I had no opinion on the subject whatsoever and was fine with whatever he ordered. It made it so easy, actually. The transaction was complete in seconds and the mattress has since been successfully installed. Over several years of marriage, we are now in the comfortable state of making many decisions unilaterally, respecting the fact that we each have expertise and enthusiasm in certain areas. 

Democracy is chaotic, after all.