Spoiler alert: I’m about to go philosophical on you.
When we talk about coaching, there’s a lot of discussion about shifting perspectives and what a gift that can be. A true perspective shift doesn’t just change how you see something. It can change the amount of pressure you’re feeling.
I listened to a podcast with Oliver Burkeman, which provided a shift in perspective that initially sounded bizarre and completely counterintuitive. But once it landed, it felt oddly freeing.
The idea is this: things are generally worse than we think they are. Here’s my take on how he explained this concept.
Things being “worse” could apply to anything – the state of a relationship, or something far more mundane, like the number of books stacked on your nightstand.
At first blush, this sounds discouraging and possibly fatalistic. Because why on earth would it help to assume things are worse than we imagine?
In this sense, however, we’re talking about “worse” as in there’s a sense of futility about things or situations.
Here’s how it helped me.
Allow me to introduce the to-do list. I think it’s safe to say that most of us believe that if we could just get everything done, we’d breathe a sigh of relief at being “caught up.” But every time you check something off the list, it usually just creates more tasks. In that regard, the list isn’t designed to end. It just keeps regenerating (kinda like a starfish…)
Once you accept that the to-do list is fundamentally unfinishable, it becomes easier to stop trying so hard to Cross.Everything.Off.
See? This is not a personal failure. This is just the nature of the to-do list! Such a relief!
How about relationships? One of the biggest challenges many of us face is trying – consciously or unconsciously – to change someone else’s behavior. There are things about my spouse that drive me nuts. If I can accept the futility of getting him to change certain behaviors, there’s freedom in that.
One more for you and then I’ll stop. I promise.
The list of books I want to read would take multiple lifetimes to complete. When I stop pretending I might someday read them all, I can enjoy the one(s) I’m actually reading without guilt about the others. (The abandoned ones, the half-read ones waiting to be finished, the ones with pristine spines waiting to be cracked open…)
What crystallized all of this for me was when Oliver (Mr. Burkeman? I don’t know the man and not sure how to address him!) shared the idea of sitting on a riverbank.
You don’t sit on a riverbank beating yourself up about the water that already passed before you showed up, or stressing about the water you’ll miss when you leave.
You sit. You dip your toes in. You experience what’s here and enjoy it. It’s impossible to experience all the water in the river.
Your to-do list is a river. So is your reading list. So is most of life.
The shift in perspective – and therefore the relief – comes when you stop trying to keep up with the current and start paying attention to where you are standing.
Your call to action is to just notice where you might be resisting something. What happens when you apply the riverbank theory?
