I’m about halfway through the book, “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle,” by David Wroblewski, and I ran across a beautiful explanation by the protagonist’s mother, Trudy, to her son Edgar, of why fighting reality (change) is ultimately futile and painful.
“Things always change… That’s just life. You can fight it or you can accept it. The only difference is, if you accept it, you get to do other things. If you fight it, you’re stuck in the same spot forever. Does that make sense?”
But aren’t some changes worth fighting?
“You know that’s true.”
So how do you know which is which?
“I don’t know a way to tell for sure,” she said. “You ask, ‘Why am I really fighting this?’ If the answer is ‘Because I’m scared of what things will be like,’ then, most times, you’re fighting for the wrong reason.”
And if that’s not the answer?
“Then you dig in your heels and you fight and fight and fight. But you have to be absolutely sure you can handle a different kind of change, because in the end, things will change anyway, just not that way. If fact, if you get into a fight like that, it pretty much guarantees things are going to change.”
He nodded. He knew she was right but he hated what she said. A person could stop a specific thing, but they couldn’t stop change in general. Rivers can’t run backward. Yet, he felt there must be an alternative, neither willfulness or resignation…
Edgar’s right, there is a way to meet this change—the new reality—without resistance or resignation. You can meet it with peace. Peace does not mean becoming a doormat. Peace means facing and understanding what’s driving your fear so you can view the situation with clarity. Stating your case without needing to defend yourself. Creatively finding another solution rather than being locked in the black and white. Taking care of yourself without worrying what others might think. Choosing to be at peace no matter what others around you are doing. Peace is the strongest position you can take—there is no need to prove or win, only to flow downstream with the river.
Ever find yourself spinning round and round over a decision? You know that if you don’t make the exact right decision, you’ll be some level of screwed from minor inconvenience to total life meltdown. You frantically think it through trying to analyze the decision from every angle. Yet the spinning continues.
My suggestion–do a gut check. Everyone has “gut feelings,” but many people ignore them in favor of trying to think through a problem. This sounds very smart, rational, and adult except for one problem: in the words of Martha Beck, “our minds lie to us like two-bit ladies of the night.” (Er, paraphrased) The reason we spin out when trying to think through a thorny issue is that our mind starts in with the chorus of our greatest fears which go something like this:
“If you go back to school/change careers/take up skateboarding you’ll end up totally broke everyone will think you’re crazy you’ll never be smart enough people will point and laugh no one will love you…blah, blah, blah.”
It’s very hard to make a decision with this kind of mental noise. Our minds try to steer us toward the “safe” decision, which rarely leads to happiness and often isn’t even that safe. That’s where the gut check comes in. The mind tends to be governed by fear and becomes clouded by it. Your essential self, that part of you that isn’t worried about the fear chorus, talks to you through your body. And your body never lies. If this sounds a little woo-woo, it’s actually very practical. Think about a time you had a gut feeling about something, perhaps you felt an immediate connection (aversion) to someone you met , or a sense of rightness (wrongness) about a situation, or walked into an office to interview and knew you’d be working there (or knew you should turn and walk right out the door). That’s your gut talking to you. Was that feeling ever wrong? Was there a time you ignored a gut feeling and were sorry you did? Exactly.
Now, back to that question you’re wrangling with. Submit it to a gut check. When you think about Possible Action A, what’s your gut feeling? How about Possible Action B? If you’re still getting a cloudy reading, try again but preface your gut check by asking yourself the question, “What feels the best if I knew everything would work out perfectly?” You’ll know which action is on the right track because it will give you the sensation of peace, freedom, excitement, generally of rightness. Pick that one.
Pay more attention to the gut check and see where your essential self guides you. Try it on everything from what to have for dinner, to whether you should go on that second date, to your next job. I promise you it will be a fun ride.
I was at an event the other night and struck up a conversation with “Michelle” who was looking stressed and a little exhausted. She told me she’s been regularly working 65+ hours per week—she was not happy about it.
When I asked her why she was working so many hours, she said they just keep giving her more work. I could tell right away that Michelle was the glue person at work. The one who stays late, gets things done, doesn’t complain too loudly and generally holds everything together. The problem with the glue person is that they tend to fall apart (pun intended).
I have this theory. Humans won’t substantially change their behavior unless they feel some degree of pain. I explained to her that while she’s in “pain” in terms of how many hours she’s working, no one else at her work is feeling that pain. Even though she is telling her superiors she’s too busy, they are not directly feeling the pain of her workload. Hence, they aren’t highly motivated to act. This doesn’t make Michelle’s superiors evil, they simply aren’t uncomfortable enough to make alleviating Michelle’s workload a priority. Simple human nature.
Instead of continuing to absorb an unsustainable workload (or burn out, or quit) Michelle’s new mission is to share the pain. Once her bosses feel some of the pain—which could come in the form of missed deadlines, customer complaints, or simply having to spend more time helping her prioritize—they will become more motivated to make a change. Her pain will now be their pain. My favorite tool for doing this is called—well, I don’t have a fancy name for it, but here’s how it works. The next time Michelle’s bosses assign her a new project, she says:
“Sure, I’m happy to work on that. I have these 6 other projects I’m working on, so if I take this one, two others will need to move out of my queue. Which ones would you like to move?”
This strategy is brilliant on so many levels:
The key to making this work is to stop working so much. If you try this, you might have thoughts come up like I should be handling all this or I’m letting people down. Question the truth of these thoughts—who are you really letting down if you keep working like this? How much longer will you last? How is the quality of your work? How’s the rest of your life going? Exactly. Work through those thoughts and hold the line. Then enjoy your newfound free time and plucky attitude.
I just had to share this awesome post from Martha Beck’s blog. Pam Slim (Martha’s lead blogger and prominent blogger in her own right) breaks down what Martha calls our “lizard” fears. These are the tapes we constantly play in our minds. The greatest hits of our lizard fears go something like this:
“I’ll never fall in love.”
“I’m going to be a bag lady.”
“I’ll never succeed.”
“I never get what I really want.”
“I’m not good enough.”
Any of these sound familiar? Pam does a great job of explaining where these fears come from and how to quiet your own inner lizard. Be sure to scroll down to the bottom of the post and check out the hilarious vintage Saturday Night Live video of Chris Farley playing Matt Foley, Motivational Speaker. Priceless.
My mom (my original life coach) is, to state it plainly, badass. She taught me what it is to be a strong, loving woman in this world. Even though I’m a “grown-up”, I freely admit that when the chips are down, I call Mom. Here’s a story about one of those times.
I was working for a startup on a shoestring budget and my job was to spend this treasured budget to acquire new customers. I came to dread the Tuesday marketing meetings where I would be relentlessly questioned by the CEO about the latest numbers, strategies and tactics. I would stammer answers and feel incredibly defensive and victimized by his “attacks.” I wanted to quit, but since I didn’t have another job to go to, I felt stuck.
I called Mom. I told her my tale of woe and mistreatment over lunch. I noticed she was looking at me like, “who are you?” She was frankly a little mystified that her strong, talented and extremely capable daughter was allowing herself to feel attacked by anyone. It was then that she looked me right in the eye and from a place of complete love and belief in me, delivered a message from the core of her being right into mine:
Remember who you ARE.
Whoa. I felt like I snapped back into myself. My response was, “Oh YEAH.” I immediately calmed down and was able to see the situation from a completely different perspective.
I hadn’t been speaking up because I was afraid of getting in trouble or getting fired. I realized that by not speaking, I was creating a worse-feeling situation than getting fired. I had nothing to lose by not speaking up and that I certainly was not going to allow someone to bully me in a meeting. I also realized the CEO was stressed because he was on the hook for the company’s success and I just happened to be in charge of one of the major outgoing expenses. His intensity on the topic was a reflection of his level of stress; it had nothing to do with me.
Tuesday rolled around and I was much calmer. The intensity ramped up as the CEO leaned toward me and asked the usual questions. Then, I did something different. I leaned toward him and appropriately but strongly reminded him of the importance of keeping a civil tone in meetings. (The body language of the other meeting attendees would’ve been hilarious if the situation wasn’t so charged—they all looked like they wanted to bail out through a trapdoor in the floor.) An amazing thing happened—he immediately sat back and calmed down. It seemed as if he too had forgotten who he was. Later we met privately and were able to have a very open conversation about how to better communicate.
I still left that job—this was the beginning of my own career transition—but I was able to leave on very amicable terms with the CEO and more importantly, with my self esteem intact.
On this Mother’s Day, I would like to say thanks Mom for making sure that I remember who I am and for providing a loving reminder when I seem to forget.