When I look back on the most meaningful experiences I’ve had as a customer, or as a consumer, it’s never the moments of overwhelming abundance that stand out. It’s the ones where the decision felt effortless, where the solution felt so perfectly aligned that it seemed the choice had already been made for me.

It’s those moments when simplicity did what complexity could not: it made me feel important, understood, and cared for.

The idea that people crave endless choices is one we’ve been sold for far too long. On the surface, it makes sense – more options should mean more freedom, right? But anyone who’s spent twenty minutes staring at a menu with too many pages or scrolling through an infinite online catalog knows how quickly that freedom turns into exhaustion.

The truth is, most people don’t want more choices; they want the right ones.

This is something I’ve thought about often, both in my work and in my personal life. Every time I’ve seen a project, a product, or even a conversation falter, it’s rarely been because there wasn’t enough offered. It’s often been because there was too much – too much noise, too many directions, and not enough clarity. People are busy, distracted, and constantly making decisions. They don’t need us to overwhelm them; they need us to guide them.

Psychologists call it decision fatigue, and I think we’ve all felt it. When faced with too many options, the mental toll of choosing becomes overwhelming. Even after making a choice, there’s often that nagging feeling of what if?

What if I picked the wrong one? What if there was something better? More often than not, it’s not satisfaction that follows an abundance of choices; it’s regret.

This is where curation becomes not just a skill but an act of service. Whether you’re a business trying to sell a product or a leader trying to inspire a team, the greatest gift you can give someone is clarity. It’s about doing the hard work on your end so that what they see on theirs feels effortless. It’s not about taking away their freedom; it’s about respecting their time and their mental bandwidth.

I’ve found that the best experiences, the ones that stick with you, come from simplicity done well. Think of a menu with just a few dishes, each one thoughtfully crafted. Or a service that seems to anticipate exactly what you need, no more and no less. These experiences don’t feel limiting, they feel liberating. They take the weight off your shoulders because someone else has already done the heavy lifting.

This idea extends far beyond business. It’s something I see in leadership, relationships, and even the way we structure our own lives. A leader who overwhelms their team with endless options or strategies often creates more confusion than momentum. But the leader who distills the noise into a clear path forward? That’s the leader people usually rally behind.

It takes courage to simplify. It’s far easier to give people everything and hope they figure it out. But true impact comes from taking the time to understand what really matters to the people you’re serving. It’s about asking the right questions, listening deeply, and then curating solutions that feel almost inevitable.

Simplicity isn’t about taking shortcuts or doing less work. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s about wrestling with complexity, sifting through the noise, and stripping away everything that doesn’t belong. I think it was Steve Jobs who said,

“Simple can be harder than complex; you have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.”

This resonates deeply with me because simplicity isn’t just a professional principle – it’s also a personal one. The best moments in my own life have often come from clarity, whether it was a conversation that brought focus to a chaotic situation or a decision that cut through the clutter. It’s not about having every option available; it’s about trusting that the options you have are the ones that matter.

As a leader, a professional, or even just a friend, what we’re really offering is trust. It’s not the sheer number of choices we can present but the confidence we create when we show someone exactly what they need. It’s the difference between making someone feel lost in possibilities and making them feel comfortable with their decision.

So here’s the question I keep coming back to:

How can we make things simpler – not for ourselves, but for the people we’re here to serve? How can we take the complexity and make it feel effortless? How can we turn more into better, and abundance into alignment?

At its core, this isn’t about doing less – it’s about doing what matters most. Because the weight of simplicity may rest on us, but for those we serve, it feels like freedom.

And isn’t that the kind of impact we’re all striving for?