Choices, choices

I don't like coffee, but I understand that sometimes people who do so suffer an overabundance of the bean. I don't mean addiction; I mean when you ask for a coffee and get offered cappuccino, americano, latte and so on. You choose latte and are offered skinny or full-fat. You choose full-fat and are offered 'sprinkles'. Suddenly the choices overwhelm, and you explode into "Just give me a b****y coffee!"

I'm writing this at Greenbelt, where there is a superabundance of theology, of dogma, of worship, of talks, and of causes to sign up to or protest against. I fail in my attempt to get into a talk on new monasticism and find myself instead, irony of ironies, going to get my iPhone charged.

And I wonder: "Am I missing out because of the choices that baffle and bewilder?
Yet in the background I hear the infectious beat of Rend Collective Experiment on the main stage. I catch phrases from the talk I'm missing but will be able to catch on mp3. A 'flash mob' has just burst into 'Amazing Love' right next to me. And I find myself inspired by the artistic efforts of unsung volunteers to sign-post the venues around me.
Inspired. Look up the root of that word, and look up the Greek for Holy Spirit.
No choice. Good choice.