We think we want complete freedom. But what we really want as humans is the freedom to choose our own restrictions.

If we go to a toy store with a child, they want to take the whole store home. If you take me to Target, I will want the same thing. But overwhelm and entropy would shortly ensue. This would not be a pleasurable experience for child or me.

Our brains are designed to deduce. To label and categorize. It’s in the brain’s nature to focus in rather than zoom out – to become convergent rather than divergent. This is how evolution ensured our species’ ability to survive threats: it created a tendency in our brains toward predictability and order. It also gave us vigilance and focus to scan for indicators of chaos ahead.

Humans desire the sovereignty of choice; just don’t leave the field of choice wide open without limits.

This is why marketers present tiers for their products and pricing in the good, better, best format. It’s why mothers negotiate with their children by allowing the child to choose which of their chores they do first. It’s also why we hear as women that we have to make a guy think it was “his idea” to get what we want. Choice feels like freedom. There’s buy-in.

But in some of us, there’s a real sense of ‘fear of missing out’ otherwise known as ‘FOMO.’

Zeroing in feels uncomfortable despite our evolutionary hard-wiring. Limiting choice activates attention to items outside the choice pool and narrowing parameters. Suddenly, all we can think of is what could be on the buffet that isn’t.

This phase of chosen change can create so much internal dissonance that a plan will stop dead in its tracks. A war between Old and New erupts. (If you still need to read my post about Old Jenn and New Jenn, click here!) An example of such a war can be found in this recent good time in my head over running shoes. *facepalm*

Old Jenn: “You chose the beige Brooks. I told you that you love your white running shoes. We know this. But you saw all those options on the website and began to feel like you wanted to try a different color because getting white again would be predictable. Now, when you head out in your beige shoes, you inevitably look down at some point and think your shoes look dirty. I know you. I know you love white kicks. Why didn’t you listen to me? Predictability is good! It’s safe. Now we’re living with regret.”

New Jenn: “We’ve bought a new pair of Brooks every three months for four years. Many times, we’ve gotten the same color. But every other time we’ve stepped into a new color, we’ve liked them. Why wouldn’t I have pushed us out of our comfort zone one time more? You’re right that I don’t like them, but this is rare. It was worth trying, and we’ll be able to repurchase the whites in a short 60 days. Have you considered that you’re holding on too tightly to needing only positive experiences?

Old Jenn: “Positive experiences are predictably good. We like good. We all want good. You can’t say you’re unhappy when I decide to put on The Proposal for us to watch for the three-thousandth time. You know you laugh. You benefit from the choice to go with what’s known.”

New Jenn: “I do enjoy those predictably positive choices. All I’m saying is, how do we ever get to new positive experiences that blow our minds unless we’re willing to try new ones? New movies? New shoes? New places? I understand it’s your job as a record-keeper of the past to draw conclusions about the current moment from what has occurred in the past. You want to zero in, while I want to zero out. Can we please make a deal moving forward, then? I’ll let you choose restrictions that honor my desire to remain open to possibility.“

In the case of Oregon, the two sides have agreed upon the following parameters:

1. I call this an “experiment” for a year’s lease worth of time.
2. I tell myself since I’m keeping my house in Ohio, I still have what’s familiar to come back to if I choose after I complete my time commitment.
3. Since I know my second most significant area of risk aversion is financial security, if a work opportunity (the antidote to economic insecurity) is found based in a location outside of Oregon, such as Northern California, Washington, Montana, or Michigan, those areas are fair game for focusing on items not currently on the buffet.
4. I focus on Oregon with an intention strong enough to narrow the focus to accommodate Old Jenn’s preference while permitting myself to consider other areas or situations outside of Medford but still within Oregon.

If all else fails, make change into a game with and for yourself(selves). Cut deals. Negotiate. If overwhelm is present, order is lost within the brain. Find ways to create a sense of order without giving up your sense of freedom. Locate examples where you’ve already employed this strategy and successfully navigated a similar dynamic, and remind yourself that you’ve got this. Because you do.