A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS

I’ll admit upfront that I am weird.

But occasionally, when I am getting dressed, I think, “If High School-Me saw a snapshot of Today-Me, he would have no idea what year it was or how far into the future we are. I mean, aside from seeing my phone, there’s no fashion clue that reveals we are three plus decades into the future. Things haven’t changed that much.”

Think about it. If you graduated high school in, say, 1935, and then saw a snapshot of yourself in your fifties in the 1960s (or worse, the 70s)… your mind would be blown.

Seeing my own snapshot, I would likely have a few thoughts: (A) Apparently, this must be a Saturday or I’m unemployed because I’m not wearing a suit, like all working people do. (B) Why is someone in their very early fifties wearing tennis shoes on the daily? And (C) Is this what fifty looks like? Don’t fifty-year-olds look like our founding fathers with bigger bellies?

Of all things, it might be the shoes that draw the most concern. I mean, not at first. My initial reaction would be, “Hey, look, I’m still youthful and punchy enough to wear 'kid' shoes.” But then it might dawn on me that this is actually part of my middle-aged uniform. Men of a certain age are required to wear shoes like this. They say, “Yes, I’m a grown-up, but I’m still holding onto my youth inside. You call it fashion regression, I call it ‘forever young.’ I can still jam. I can shred. So what if I look like I belong in a retro garage band in a Cialis commercial? If I throw on a blazer, it’ll look “Hipster-Chic” (and hopefully, not like a MegaChurch Youth Pastor).

Imagine my disappointment when High School-Me sees Today-Me, sneaker-clad, wearing jeans and earrings, with a little soul patch on my chin, and a generationally appropriate concert shirt (reprint) and realizes I never was in a band, my highest aspiration as a kid. Talk about a bait and switch.

Hopefully, the snapshot will show me smiling, maybe even with other people. I spend much more time with people now than I did when I was younger. If anything, that has made me look and feel younger. It turns out, humans are the new super drug. The more we are around people who make us laugh, lift our spirits, make us think, or show concern or affection for us... the more alive we feel.

My wife, Ann-Janette (one of the most people-y people I know), and I were talking about some friends recently. She was concerned over someone to the point of frustration (which is kind of when your desire for someone’s well-being boils over). Why doesn’t this person just do this…or that? They know what they need to do—and it would help! Why don't they just do it?

It turns out, most humans have a gravitational pull to “same.” As in repeated patterns. We have predictable behaviors. Those behaviors make it hard for us to get off the couch or have the hard conversation or get rid of piles of stuff in our homes or maintain relationships after a couple of months or not blame others instead of looking inside.

Most of us struggle to “make ourselves” do the right thing (like facing health issues, stopping the hermit lifestyle, or turning off Netflix).

At the Frontier Splash Pad on the west side of town, they have a whirlpool. It’s probably ten feet across and spins in such a way that if you wanted to, you could just get caught in the current and float in circles indefinitely. I’ve seen kids do it. It creates a pretty tremendous centrifugal force. When my daughter was younger, I sometimes had to reach in from the outside, grab her hand, and use the momentum to pull her back into the open water.

That’s the power of people in our lives.

Left to myself, I might never leave the house again. On my own, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t finish anything I start. I would neglect my health because what’s the point? There would be no one to force me to socialize, try something new, encourage me in the good, or pull me out of the bad. Without a hand to help, most days I would just be stuck spinning.

You make it easier for me to do the right thing.

I need that.

We need that.

A few years ago, I read a book (that’s right). The book's goal was, of course, to help people do more, accomplish more, be more… or some such more stuff like that. I lost interest after a while. But there was one principle in the book I found incredibly useful. The author suggested that in moments like these—when we are struck by what we wish we could or should do—we should create an inciting incident. That means doing something that helps hold you committed to a choice you’ve made (or want to make). It usually involves other people.

So, for example: You need/want to exercise more. An inciting incident could be asking a friend to join you or enrolling in a class at the Y today, before you can talk yourself out of it. Your daily life has stalled. An inciting incident might involve emailing your boss for a five-minute meeting to explore available options. You want to see family before it’s too late. An inciting incident could be to go ahead and book the airfare, even if you have to adjust the dates later.

Inciting incidents often involve accountability. As creatures of habit and comfort, most of us need the emotional or physical hand to help us escape the whirlpool trap. We can’t do it on our own…or we would have. We get stuck in thought cycles and options and emotional risk factors, and potential discomforts. And so weeks, months, or even years later… very little has changed. You look at the snapshot of yourself, and there’s no sign of how many years have passed because everything around you—the surroundings, expressions, and values—remains unchanged.

What is something that has been months (or years) in the waiting? Think about it for a moment. A conversation. A resolution. A trip. A quitting or starting. Now, what’s an inciting incident you can take to move forward with that? Maybe your inciting incident will set you on the path to your goal. Or maybe it will help you realize you really don’t want that thing after all. Either way - closure, freedom, or a better place.

Can’t come up with an inciting incident? Email me. Maybe just announcing it to another human will be the start. I can be a part of that. (Here’s my email: jw@pioneerdream.com)

This is your chance to make your future snapshot—whether six months or five years from now—look different from how it does today. Distinguishable from this moment. I hope you will take a risk and reach out to someone for help in escaping the whirlpool.

Either way, I'm proud of you.

Who knows, maybe next month when we meet here, your snapshot will look a little different, and maybe mine will too.

Cheers, my friends.