It’s a simple but challenging question: How do I change? And more importantly, where do I even begin when I want to change? It’s a question all of us are confronted with in life at some point. And if we stick with it long enough, if we keep pressing into the desire for change but also the uncertainty surrounding it, we end up with the humbling and unvarnished reality that our lives are, on some level, a complete mess.
I’m writing this post in a season of a change, an unwanted one. For the past several years, I’ve had a fairly comfortable employment situation that is now coming to a spectacular fizzle. And just like any other human being with a fundamental desire to survive, I’m trying to understand my situation to be able to pivot as successfully as possible into the next chapter of life, as well as mitigate any unwanted side effects of such a transition both now and in the future. But the more sensible side of me, the side that’s come up against trying situations like these in the past, knows that this new twist in my life is in many ways something that I can’t muscle through with the same old elbow grease. It doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try to understand or change things—there’s always something that can and should be gleaned from situations like these. But after giving it a reasonable amount of effort and coming up short for reasons beyond my doing, at least for the time being, what can be done?
Well, there actually is something I can do, but it doesn’t involve a lot of doing, at least not right away. In the support group culture, one of the first things we’re exposed to is the principle of powerlessness. The way I translate this principle into my own experience is as follows: At this moment in time, the state of affairs in my life is more or less set in stone. And further, for particularly challenging problems such as major life changes, negative patterns of behavior, and unproductive ways of relating to others and to life in general, I need help outside of myself to successfully pave a new path forward. I can’t do it on my own.
However, I don’t always need to be in the grip of a debilitating psychological condition or strange behavior to benefit from this principle. In fact, over the past couple of years I’ve learned this principle perhaps best in a support group full of dads, including new or soon to be dads, in which there were oftentimes more questions about fatherhood than answers, but plenty of support in muddling through the uncertainty of parenting as a group. And more often than I initially expected, I would hear little tidbits that either pushed me in the right direction or that actually answered a particular question I’d had about my new role as the father of a one-year-old. All that to say, when I’m facing a major change in my life, going the lone wolf or status quo route isn’t going to cut it. It’s beyond me. Yes, there are things that—as I mentioned before—I can and should do, but the vast majority of a given problem in my life is out of my hands. So how do I move forward? Where do I begin?
The most all-emcompassing answer that I can offer is my mantra as of late: Never do anything alone. Which essentially means that unless I feel very secure about an up and coming decision, like running an errand, performing a task around the house or at work that I’ve done dozens of times, or attempting a job for which there are clear, reliable, and readily available materials for instruction, I should first consult others, talk to trusted friends or colleagues, talk to my wife, spend time in prayer—anything but take immediate action, which has a tendency to result in well-intentioned but misdirected effort. In other words, I have no business trailblazing decisions requiring unusually expansive personal discretion in my life, particularly important ones with potentially serious ramifications for my family and the lives of others close to me, without at least having a conversation or two with a trusted friend or mentor. In and of myself, I’m powerless to make a good, solid decision. Or at best, I’m likely to overlook important details or nuances of the problem at hand.
Now, I can already imagine how some of you might respond to this: Pretty obvious, Stephen. And I would heartily agree with you. You see, it took me nearly 40 years to learn that the best thing I can do for myself, and for those closest to me, is to simply talk to another person before stepping out on my own. It wasn’t always obvious to me to reach out and connect with others right away. That is, until I learned the power of sharing in supportive relationships and settings, places and spaces where I can express myself and be acknowledged for who I am, and develop a community of trusting, safe relationships to seek advice and help in, and to even develop friendships in.
And what I’ve learned in the process is: The journey’s the destination. I know that may sound like a lazy reworking of an old cliche, but it actually has a fair amount of meaning here. In the past, I took one of two approaches in dealing with important issues in my life. I either set out to deal with and solve my problems as quickly as possible, striving for success in managing my life both personally and professionally in the most efficient manner possible. Or for the issues that confounded me, I would procrastinate, hoping on some level that they would simply go away. What I didn’t understand at the time is that problems are a natural and reoccurring part of life. Have you ever noticed that the problems just keep coming? If you don’t have a problem in your life right now, you will very soon—count on it! Life isn’t about solving problems to be done with them, although that’s part of it; solving problems builds self-esteem, skill, talent, etc. It’s about developing relationships to foster the kind of community that can sustainably bear the burden of the myriad of challenges that make up the human experience, and to do it adaptively and successfully, and to grow personally and interpersonally in the process, with a sense of joy and peace.
Once I came to that realization, I saw problems in a whole new light. Problems and the need for change set the stage for the great drama of my life to unfold on, with trusted friends and confidants walking alongside me as I move forward, not always with complete confidence in my problem-solving abilities, but with growing trust and understanding toward other fellow travelers. My need for change creates space in my life for real, authentic relationship, which is what life’s all about anyway. So where do we begin? How about community? How about a conversation with a friend?