Solving Problems


Ever feel like the world is chock full of problems? There’s a problem here, a problem there, and every problem screams for a solution. Ever consider how your life change if you knew, in your very marrow, that you are not responsible for fixing every problem in the world?

An emotional sponge takes on problems like a city bus takes on passengers — and ends up feeling overloaded. Plenty of these good folk become my clients because they just can’t cope with their burdens.

You know the type. They’re the resilient, strong person who has faced plenty of adversity and has developed a sense that there’s nothing they can’t solve. Their shoulders are broad, and they can carry a huge load. So they keep taking on one tangled situation after another. They carry their kid’s problems, their co-worker’s problems, their mother’s problems, their neighbor’s problems and the problems of the woman in front of them in the checkout line. Her biggest complaint? Never enough time.

The emotional sponge can also be the person who defines himself by a willingness to “help”. They want to lend a hand, pitch in, offer support. As a result, they say yes to everything. They organize every charity drive, political leafletting effort and recycling program in a hundred mile radius. And they’re frazzled.

One more type of emotional sponge — the person who’s so uncertain about her own feelings so she takes on the emotions of those around her. If everyone else is worried about the price of tea in China, she adopts that worry as her own. Like a pinball, she bounces from feeling to feeling, and ends up drained and exhausted.

I was blessed to have a son who had no interest in tying his own shoes — especially if I was limitlessly willing to get down on my knees and tie them for him. One day I realized that if he didn’t learn to tie his shoes himself I might have to visit his college campus daily (not in my plan for 2012, honestly). When I stopped solving his problem for him, he learned to tie his shoes.

And so it is. Maybe we solve other people’s problems because it makes us feel useful, or needed, or — maybe we can admit this — slightly superior. Regardless, when you take on the problems of others you prevent them from learning the skills to prioritize and solve their own problems.

Your “help” may actually make the problem persist.

Becoming real — being comfortable in your own skin with who you are — absolutely requires coming to terms with the idea that you are not responsible for fixing every problem in the world.

In fact, not every problem can be solved. (Death is permanent, for instance.)

Not every problem should be solved. (Because time alone may resolve it.)

And not every problem is really a problem. (We just make it so to satisfy our own needs.)

If you plant a seed in dirt, and water it, you don’t know whether it’s growing until a sprout shoots up. If you’re worried about its progress and dig up the seed, you’ll kill the plant.

The best course of action is to wait. Leave it alone. And trust.

Which is exactly what you do when you step back from the responsibility for fixing every problem. Wait. Watch. Trust.

And, chances are, when you stop solving the problems of the world, you’ll have the time you need to focus on the problems that really matter — your own.

What Do You Expect?


I have come to believe that expectations are at the root of the world’s ills.

Expectations put us in a rut. Israeli expects Palestinian to hate Israeli, Palestinian expects the same from Israeli. Each acts proactively on those expectations and, boom, we have war. War that lasts for years and years.

Husband expects wife will be angry when he comes home late, wife expects he has no good excuse and, bang, we have an argument.

Woman expects she will fail because she always has, and, anyway, she’s not really good enough — who does she think she’s kidding? — and, pow, she doesn’t get the promotion. Again.

All these foregone conclusions are based on expectations which may or may not be true. An Israeli might actually want to give compassionate medical care to a Palestinian. A Palestinian may wish to teach an Israeli child calculus — but because of their underlying limiting expectations, neither do.

Author Byron Katie tells a story about a walk in the desert she once took. Katie, a woman of a certain age, was out walking alone in the desert near her home. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a snake. She froze.

A snake. A poisonous snake. The snake was going to bite her. She was going to be bitten by a poisonous snake and die a horrible, slow death in the desert. She’d die and no one would know what happened to her. She’d die alone, painfully, in the desert. Searchers would come eventually and find a pile of bones. She’d be all alone out there in the desert — dead. Nothing but a pile of bones!

She opened one eye to see the demon snake who was going to kill her, and…it was a rope. Not a poisonous, ruinous snake. Just an old rope. Laughing, she stepped over it and continued her walk.

Expectations are like this. Expect to see a snake, and you will. Even if it’s just a rope. You’ll react to the rope as if it were a snake, when all you need to do is treat it as a rope and keep walking.

What if you lived your life if it were just an experiment? In the scientific method, there are no expectations of outcome. We do the experiment and see what happens. If it works, we keep doing it. If it doesn’t, we stop. We try something new. And, there are no mistakes. What a lovely way to live!

Difficult People


Ever have a really difficult person in your life? I see all those heads nodding out there – and a few hands in the air. So, many of us can agree: Difficult People are a difficult challenge. Dealing with them sometimes proves so challenging, in fact, that some folks exit, stage left, rather than continue to engage with someone so… difficult.

Let’s just get this out of the way. Some people are mentally ill, and not interested in getting treatment. There, I said it. Sometimes, these people are in your workplace or in your neighborhood or in your gym or in your family tree. This article is not about how to deal with the mentally ill – no, that’s for another writer in another venue.

This article is about how to deal with the run-of-the-mill Difficult Person who gets on your last nerve. You know who I’m talkin’ about.

They’re the people who annoy you with their incessant, inappropriate chit-chat, or stymie your plans with pointless roadblock after pointless roadblock. They run late, they’re absent-minded, they can’t “move on”, have body odor, halitosis and are way too needy.

Guess what? They all have something in common — they’re not doing what WE think they should be doing. They should shut up, go along, get along, let us lead, remember stuff, shower, brush their teeth and pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. If only they’d do what WE want them to do, they’d be so much easier to get along with!

The difficulty is that they don’t do what we want them to do, do they? And we invest a lot of time and energy trying to get them to be different than they are, don’t we? Hey, let’s accept it — we can’t control them. But we can control ourselves. So, boys and girls, what you’ve got to do is check your own expectations and motivations to see why you react to the Difficult Person the way you do.

One of the best tools I’ve used to help clients deal with Difficult People is this: take a piece of paper and write down everything your Difficult Person does to drive you up the wall. Don’t leave anything out, don’t censor yourself, don’t hedge. Let it all hang out.

Feel better now? So nice to get that off your chest, right? OK. The hard part. Go back through the list. Anything there something you wish you could do, or something you dislike about yourself? I had a client who was cheesed at a brown-nosing co-worker, who she called “Miss Thing”. Seems Miss Thing would walk down the hall, see the boss and say, “Charlene, want to get some lunch?” – and proceed to have coveted one-on-one time with the boss. My client was irate! Who did Miss Thing think she was?

I asked my client to write down everything she disliked about Miss Thing and then go back through it. The proverbial light bulb appeared overhead. “Someone once told me I ought to know my place, and not be too big for my britches,” she said. “I am afraid of being seen as too forward.” I queried, “So, it’s not so much about Miss Thing, is it?” “No,” she responded, “it’s that she’s doing something I wish I could do.” Yes, my young Jedi – that is exactly the problem.

It’s ultimately not so much about the Difficult Person, it’s about you. Understanding yourself makes the behavior of others easier to manage. You may come to find that you don’t mind somebody else brown-nosing, or running late, or being weird. After you get to that point it’s mind over matter — if you don’t mind, it don’t matter.

Keep author Byron Katie’s advice in mind: “There are three kinds of business in the world: your business, my business and God’s business.” Getting into someone else’s business is a futile exercise. Waiting for someone else to change is likewise pointless. Let me tell you this: there is no magic incantation you can make, no string of words you can utter, to get someone to change his ways.

Change? That’s their business. And your business? Simple. It’s what you choose to do about yourself and for yourself. Difficult People are only difficult when you mistake your business for theirs.