There is a peach juice I enjoy.
It comes in a small, medium, or large bottle. And if I buy the large, I can never seem to enjoy it.
What happens is I guzzle it. I’ve got this vast amount of peach juice, it seems like it could last forever. No one sip matters, because I’ve got a hundred more. So I drink it fast and inattentively.
But if I buy the small bottle, it’s a whole different experience.
I savor it. I can see how finite it is. So I take it in little by little, treating each sip like it matters because there are so few. And from that small bottle, I get an illogical amount of pleasure.
It’s a little peach juice paradox for me: Less of it brings more enjoyment. I know the poets and philosophers have written about this paradox for ages, but it comes home to roost for me in the juice aisle.
To be clear: In that aisle, I often ignore this paradox. My hedonistic chorus overrides it – You love that stuff, get the large! Better yet, get three larges!
If I can remember to believe that little paradox, though, I’ll buy the small bottle. And get an illogical amount of pleasure from it.