The Luxury of Less

Hi, I'm Alex. Welcome to The Ataria.

I wear one pair of sunglasses. No logo, clear golden-brown frames. That's it.

It sounds small, and it is. That's the point. Every morning I skip a decision I never have to make. No lining up options, no "which ones go with this," no second-guessing in the mirror. I grab them and go. And that little gap where a choice used to be? Turns out that's where a lot of my best thinking lives.

I just moved back to La Jolla, the town I was born in. I always knew I'd end up here, and when the chance came to make the leap, I took it. Funny thing is, my routine barely changed. Long walks, the gym, golden hour, meeting people, chasing creative flow. What changed was the backdrop. Mountains became beach. Intense desert sun became a sea breeze. Same life, more room to breathe.

That's what this newsletter is about. Ataria comes from the Basque for "the gateway," and every month I'll open one for you: a place, a space, an object or a habit that quiets the noise so your best ideas can show up.

And I want to start with the luxury that makes every other one possible.

Health is the first luxury

Here's my definition: health is being well enough that you don't have to think about your health. It's the freedom to socialize, explore, learn, grow and create without your body or mind getting in the way. Without it, the five-star suite is just a very nice room to feel bad in.

My version looks unglamorous on paper: a long walk most mornings, the gym a few times a week, sunlight before screens, and golden hour whenever I can catch it. None of it is expensive. All of it is non-negotiable. It's the foundation that makes everything else in this newsletter worth enjoying, the travel, the beautiful rooms, the good things.

Most luxury content sells you more. More things, more options, more upgrades. I think the real upgrade is less. Less to choose, less to carry, less to manage. Not because less is virtuous, but because less makes space. Space is where calm happens, and calm is where ideas arrive.

Fewer choices, more room to think

You may know the famous jam study. In 2000, psychologists Sheena Iyengar and Mark Lepper set up a tasting table in a grocery store. A display of 24 jams drew more people in, but a display of 6 got far more of them to actually buy: about 30% versus 3%. Too many options stalled them.

To be fair, later studies haven't always found the same effect, and a 2010 review of the research found it averaged out to roughly zero. Choice overload isn't a law of nature. But anyone who has stood in front of 50 pairs of sunglasses knows the feeling.

That's why "one good pair" is my version of luxury. Quality over quantity isn't only about craftsmanship. It's about giving your attention back to you.

The loud café paradox

Now a confession that might seem to break the theme: some of my biggest breakthroughs happen in loud cafés.

Not quiet libraries. Not a silent room at home. A busy café, espresso machine hissing, conversations bouncing around me, as long as nobody is talking to me. I tune it out and slip into a kind of silent awareness inside the noise. I can find flow alone in total quiet too, but it's harder. I need the energy around me.

Turns out I'm not imagining it. In 2012, researchers Ravi Mehta, Rui (Juliet) Zhu and Amar Cheema ran five experiments on noise and creativity. A moderate hum of about 70 decibels, roughly a busy café, boosted creative performance compared with a quiet 50 decibels. Crank it to 85 decibels, closer to heavy traffic, and creativity dropped.

Their explanation: a little distraction makes your brain work slightly harder, which nudges you into big-picture, abstract thinking. Too much, and you just can't process.

So calm isn't always silence. Sometimes calm is a hum you can sink into. The luxury isn't a quiet room. It's knowing which kind of space unlocks you, and giving yourself more of it.

Not sure which type you are? Run a simple test this month. Do your next creative task in three places: a quiet room, a café, and a walk with a voice memo open. Notice which one gets you to your first good idea fastest. Then protect that place like a meeting. For me, it's a corner table, my back to the room, one coffee, and nowhere to be for an hour.

Slow days, fast thoughts

The other thing I've noticed: slower days lead to deeper, faster thoughts. When I'm not rushing between commitments, ideas start connecting on their own.

Walking might be the best example. In a 2014 Stanford study, Marily Oppezzo and Daniel Schwartz found people produced about 60% more creative ideas while walking than sitting, indoors or out. The boost showed up in brainstorming, not in focused, single-answer problem-solving. Which is exactly why I walk before I sit down to work, not instead of it.

This month's gateways

Travel: Golden Door, San Marcos, CA. A longtime wellness retreat in the hills of North County San Diego, with 30 miles of private hiking trails, farm-to-table meals and a massage every day. Less a hotel, more a reset. What makes it a fit for this issue isn't the thread count. It's the subtraction. Days follow a gentle rhythm of morning hikes, garden meals and long stretches of nothing scheduled. It's the kind of place where you arrive with a full head and leave with an empty one, which is exactly when the good ideas start showing up.

Homes: The one-chair corner. Pick a spot by a window. Add one great chair, one lamp and nothing with a screen. Over time it becomes the place your brain knows means "think here."

Goods: One excellent pair of sunglasses. Mine have no brand at all: clear, golden-brown frames that fit a smaller face perfectly and go with everything. I've worn them almost every day since summer. Buy the pair you'd happily wear every day for years. Then stop shopping.

Calm and radiance: Golden hour. The best light of the day. Free, and on the calendar every single evening.

Your ritual: the golden hour walk

Once a week this month, take a walk at golden hour.

1. Leave the earbuds at home. Phone in your pocket, on silent.
2. Walk for at least 20 minutes. No destination required.
3. When you get back, write down one idea. Just one.

One walk, one light, one idea. Prefer the hum? Swap the walk for a café session: 45 minutes, one notebook, no laptop. Then hit reply and tell me which one worked for you. I read everything.

See you next month

The Ataria will take us into travel, homes and things worth your time and money. But it starts here, with a reminder that the richest feeling in the world is being well, having room to think, and something beautiful in front of you.

One pair of sunglasses. One golden hour. One good idea at a time.

See you next month,
Alex

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