We don't have to be stuck

Steering a hot air balloon effectively requires an awareness of many variables and the willingness to change the plan based on the conditions. (Image by Timur Kozmenko)

This week, a giant container ship got stuck in the Suez Canal.

A bunch of tugboats and bulldozers have attempted to create some kind of motion for the ship, but the scale at which they are working is comically small compared to the giant cargo vessel.

I can relate. That’s how I’ve felt lately not only trying to make a change happen and influence others, but also in trying to change myself. How can I begin to overcome entrenched habits and beliefs? How can I change course without getting stuck? It feels like it will take forever, and experiments feel risky.

Some operations feel as epic and challenging as pivoting the giant Ever Given and piloting it out of the Suez. But that endeavor involves many people, heavy machinery, international diplomacy, a worldwide pandemic, and threatens zillions of dollars of goods and equipment along with the global supply chain. Honestly, I’m dealing with a handful of people and moving parts. There are better metaphors for what I’m going through. Austin Powers always comes in handy:

Wherever I am, whatever I’m going through, I did choose it. And I can probably get myself out of it, eventually, with a little help.

Taking responsibility for my own circumstances is uncomfortable. I might like to reframe myself as a helpless victim, as in the choice headline of an article my sister sent me this week from the Bangor Daily News: “The pandemic forced this Maine wedding caterer into opening a kebab shop.” But no—my situation is not the pandemic’s fault, and any kebabs that result are of my own doing.

Even now, largely isolated from each other, we can find ourselves with events we don’t want to attend and conversations we don’t want to have. We humans are very good at making life complicated. But when we boil it down, things might be a lot simpler. The complexity is optional, even if not all of our activities are.

When I was an adolescent, I loved drama and uncertainty and intrigue. My life was so boring without it. In order to grow, I worked hard to learn to strip away the emotions and try to find the kernel of truth beneath all of the layers. Then, I could make decisions with more clarity.

Not so fast, though. When you say, “this is what we need to do,” and ignore the emotions involved, you risk of offending and upsetting people. In order to avoid this, I had to systematically add the emotions back in. (Not to sound like a psychopath or anything.) It takes extra effort, but then you have a plan that connects with the people enough to actually be successful.

When it comes to vaccine hesitancy, this is the lesson I am trying to remember. It does no good to point out to someone healthy who refuses to get the vaccine that they are menace to public health. I still don’t know what approach will change someone’s mind, but it would have to address the underlying beliefs and emotions.

Now that is truly a problem on par with getting this darn boat out of the Suez. It’s going to take a lot of us to turn things around. My little community is working on it, along with the big, exciting project of bringing students back to school full time next month. Every step of the way is annoyingly complex and triggers all kinds of emotional responses. We will get through it, little by little.

If I’m not careful, I’ll get mired in “what ifs” and ambiguities that will cause me to stall. But I am not stuck, and I’m participating in all of these projects because I believe in them and in the people involved. We can do this. And then, when it’s done, we’ll take time to celebrate — before we move onto solving the next problem.