“You care more about everything than I care about anything.”
– my wife, lovingly (I think)

That sentiment comes up a lot in our house, usually after I’ve dug through the cupboard to find the perfect bowl or printed something 13 times until it comes out just right. She says it with a mix of exasperation and affection — and, truthfully, she’s not wrong.

One of my core drivers, for better or for worse, is optimization.

It’s why I’m a perfectionist. It’s why I’m good at my job. But it’s also why I have a preference about virtually everything: where to sit at a table, the shape and heft of my glass, the texture of a grape’s skin.

I can certainly enjoy things even when they’re not optimal, and I try not to be a miserable companion by constantly complaining… but given the choice, I’ll always have a preference. And once there’s a preference, there’s a hierarchy (a “ross rank” as it’s commonly known).

And it’s not that I believe my preferences should apply to others; I recognize them as inherently personal, and I don’t have conviction that my choice is objectively the best movie (Adaptation), or tissue brand (Puffs with lotion), or pizza floppiness angle (15 degrees).

I say all of this because I’m finally realizing that it’s a broken way of thinking. Do I really need to assign a winner to everything? Can’t I love Les Miserables and Beetlejuice: The Musical equally? Or rather, do I even need to compare them? Can’t I just enjoy them both, for what they are?

I’m not sure it’s something I can switch off, but maybe I can work on turning the dial away from optimization and toward radical acceptance. Maybe the real optimization is learning that not everything needs to be optimized — and being okay with that.

current mood: thoughtful

current music: kodaline – one day