The scariest shortcut
Tug boats surround the USS Saipan. (San Diego Air and Space Museum)
While the other children around him settled into their lunchtime routine, one eleven-year-old stood agitated in front of the silent microwave. “Ah!” he yelled, and pressed buttons wildly. “Grrr!” He banged on the machine in frustration.
One of the teachers walked over and said gently, “We say, ‘Hey, could I have some help with this?’” She showed the student which buttons to press, and he was on his way.
That this student is unable to intuit how to use that particular microwave is no big deal; however, his inability to ask for help is a major problem. He’s not alone — this is something we see over and over again with children and adults.
Why is asking for help the scariest shortcut? It’s because we carry a lot of mistaken notions about what it says about us to do so. Let’s examine those.
Asking for help means I’m stupid. On the contrary, you’re potentially choosing the most efficient and effective option from your menu. Whether you’re seeing a therapist for your anxiety, engaging an accountant to do your taxes, or asking for directions on the subway, you’re wisely acknowledging that other people can share their expertise to improve your situation more quickly and easily than you ever could. That’s pretty clever, actually.
Asking for help means I’m selfish. If you think that asking for help is all about you, consider how you feel when someone asks you about something in your area of expertise. You’re thrilled to contribute! Furthermore, some people will benefit professionally from your need for help — in other words, they get paid to do what they do best. This enriches them and you.
Asking for help means I’m weak. True, asking for help when you don’t need it is rather weak. The child who whines, “Carry me, Daddy!” — when Daddy’s hands are full of the beach chairs and a cooler — is about to learn just how strong her two legs are.
But recognizing your actual need for help and following through on it is an act of strength, not weakness. You’re being vulnerable by acknowledging the gaps in your own understanding or capability and demonstrating confidence that those can be filled more easily by someone else. In that context, asking for help is a courageous act of trust, broadcasting your strength, not your weakness.
Asking for help means I can’t do it on my own. Bob Dylan could do “it” on his own — he wrote a bunch of songs and played guitar, harmonica, and sang. A one-man band and arguably the foremost songwriter of his generation, right? And yet, Dylan looked to Woody Guthrie, Dave Van Ronk, and many others for inspiration, leaned on the star quality of Joan Baez to make a name for himself, and benefited from the mentorship of the legendary producer John Hammond. To this day, he relies on other musicians to play on his records and tour with him — and on people like you and me to listen to and care about his work.
So no, you can’t do it on your own. Nobody does anything on their own. Absorb this liberating idea and you will go farther, faster.
Asking for help means I’m putting other people out or bothering them. Sometimes true. But what goes around, comes around. You once were the crying baby in the middle of the night; now, you may have your own crying baby. Sometimes it’s your turn to help, sometimes it’s your turn to be helped. Humans are not solitary creatures — we rely on each other and create important bonds by doing so. You can’t escape it, so you might as well embrace it.
If I could magically transmit one piece of knowledge to my students and employees, it would be this: Asking for help may be the scariest shortcut, but it is the way out of pain, frustration, confusion, and darkness. Ask for help, and watch your life transform.
Are there any obstacles to asking for help that I missed? Any other takes on this topic? Let me know in the comments!