I like my way better
Ignore good counsel at your peril…if that’s the kind of thing you’re into. (from St. Nicholas, Dodge, 1873)
I was generally a patient music teacher, but there was one thing that always tried my patience like nothing else.
It was when a six-year-old, on her very first piano lesson, would resist the basic technique I offered.
“No, I like to do it this way,” she would say, flexing her hand along the edge of the keys like a hungry starfish.
It did no good to remind her that I had years of experience and she was on day one. It didn’t matter. This was a battle not worth fighting.
In the long run, hopefully, I could work around this student’s technical problems. However, it would always be difficult to work around such resistance.
I’d like to say that this is a phenomenon only seen in children, but it is definitely not. I know that not just because I’ve encountered it as a coach and employer, but also because I’ve reacted the exact same way when my own approach to a problem was threatened. Naturally, this attitude created obstacles to my growth and learning just as it did for my young piano student.
Kids, though — they mature. They figure stuff out. They change quickly. The kid who behaved so arrogantly at the first lesson may show up the following week entirely ready to relax her fingers, having forgotten the hill she was willing to die on previously.
For adults, it’s tougher. When we’ve invested in doing things a particular way, it can be quite destabilizing to have that way challenged. It might mean acknowledging that we are wrong — maybe even that we have been wrong for decades. That hurts.
We’re also good at rationalizing and explaining away feedback that we're getting. “Hmm, maybe you just didn't understand what I said. I said that most of the time, things are going great. It's just when I leave the house that I have a problem.” In fact, the other person may have the expertise to draw a legitimate conclusion, supported by the very data we’ve shared, that contradicts our own. Painful though it may be, it doesn't mean that they are incorrect.
When we get desperate, backed into a corner, we might cling to anything we can that would discredit what the other person is saying. “Ah, but I need a new thing of dental floss, so your plan for turning the tide of this war would never work.”
As our excuses get flimsier, we have a choice: Double down on our way, or try something new.
If we’ve been wanting to change, it makes sense that we would want to try a new way. But it’s hard! The way we’ve been doing it is familiar and easily justified. It takes less effort and it’s more comfortable, even when it sucks.
To take a fresh path requires us to overcome a lot. We have to acquire new skills and knowledge. We have to get over ourselves and admit that we aren’t perfect. And we have to be willing to trust someone else. It’s no wonder that we feel like throwing a temper tantrum over, say, our method of filing papers.
And of course, the bigger the change, the higher the stakes, and the more potential resistance we will encounter. Change is hard.
This resistance comes up in even enlightened, accomplished people. The fear is real. It's helpful to anticipate it in any kind of learning situation, from a tennis lesson to an online course to a discussion with a longtime friend.
Whether you're the one offering resistance or triggering it, it’s good to recognize that this is normal and expected. Whereas the problem of resistance is compounded when we don't understand what's happening or why, it can be mitigated by compassion and generosity — whether toward the other person or toward ourselves.
I’m sure that I will continue to encounter professionals who politely thank me for my input and tell me why their way is better, just as I can be sure that my days of digging my heels in aren’t done. It’s normal and understandable — and in the long run, manageable with a bit of awareness, some empathy, and a sense of humor.
