Change is never comfortable. On the whole, we don’t love it. Even if we are the kind of person who can more easily take risks and do new things, there are reasons that we think the way we do, act the way we do….they have become habit, they’ve become who we are, they’ve become normal for us. And changing that upsets things. We like equilibrium as a rule. We have expressions for change: “Rocking the boat” and “upsetting the apple cart” and “shaking things up”. These things unbalance equilibrium and change the status quo. And let’s face it: rocking, upsetting and shaking aren’t exactly positive or comforting images.
Even if we don’t like our current equilibrium, even if we don’t like our thoughts and habits, even if we’re not satisfied with our current normal and are ready for change, it’s never comfortable. It’s scary and it is anxiety producing. Is it any wonder that depending on the study, Canadian’s anxiety levels have risen around 5% in just the last year alone.
When Brene Brown talks of change in her book “Daring Greatly”, she uses a metaphor which I find helpful. She differentiates between being a mapmaker and a traveler. These are two different tasks. To be a mapmaker is to look at the environment and sketch the lay of the land, it’s to do the research, and plot it on paper. It’s takes into account where you are and where you want to go and develop the best route to get from here to there. Mapmaking needs to look at the past (have I traveled this way before?), the present (what factors are different now, what are my assets and liabilities, what’s the current conditions), and the future (where is the best place to go, what will it look like when I get there?)
Being a traveler is a bit easier because the map is already made. To be a traveler, I just need to follow the map. Read the signs and follow directions. It’s a status quo activity. If all goes according to the plan, then no problem.
As Brown says though,
“a surefooted and confident mapmaker does not a swift traveler make. I stumble and fall, and I constantly find myself needing to change course. And even though I’m trying to follow a map that I’ve drawn, there are many times when frustration and self-doubt take over, and I wad up that map and shove it into the junk drawer in my kitchen.”
The task always returns to mapmaking. Because when have things gone perfectly according to plan? They rarely do. When have we not stumbled, fallen or taken a wrong turn? Rarely. So the plan only works sometimes for the first day, the first 5 minutes, the first step. Then the course changes and we need to return to the mapmaking.
And this is why it can be stressful. We wonder why there isn’t more time to just coast, more cruising down the highway according to the map and less time adjusting, rerouting and recalculating.
This is the reality of change.
Kids can do amazing things with the correct information. And by kids, I mean all of us. To know that our anxiety comes from a place in our brain that wants to protect us and give us strength. Understanding that we can have agency around that is a wonderful first step into helping us be the mapmakers of our journey again.
If we can practice and get better at our response to stress and anxiety, what does that mean for our ability to cope with change? Might we be more courageous? Might we find our footing a little easier in the midst of our changing world? Might we be more prepared for the changes we want to make in our lives? Might we be able to be both better mapmakers and better travellers?
Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), life is a series of changes, one after the other – this is the reality of living, and it’s also the reality of a life engaging with ourselves and our world.
There’s an old parable as told by Jesus:
No one tears a piece from a new garment and sews it on an old garment; otherwise the new will be torn, and the piece from the new will not match the old. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the new wine, as it ferments, will burst the skins and will be spilled, and the skins will be destroyed. But new wine must be put into fresh, pliable wineskins. (Luke 5: 36-39)
Whatever changes we experience, whatever new twists and detours we encounter on our journey, using the old plan and the old map won’t quite work. And as difficult and exasperating as the prospect seems, the task of mapmaking is before us once again. With every new change, we need new plans, new approaches, new ways of understanding ourselves, and new ways to get to where we’re going. New material requires new containers. New attitudes require new awareness. New obstacles require new intentions.
Throughout our series of the obstacles and opportunities of change, let’s remember that we have each other. Our vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. Our vulnerability is the starting place for our work together to be bold enough to draw a new map into tomorrow.
-Chris New
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