Mindfulness & Getting Unstuck When Things Aren't Working

Earlier today, I decided to go to the library to work. I swiftly packed up my books and computer. I decided it would be more efficient if I brought the cord that connects my computer screen to a second display monitor with me, so I could hook up my laptop with a library computer and work from two screens. So I began the process of unhooking that cord from behind my computer.

Standing where I was, in front of my monitor, I reached underneath the screen to try to get to the cord hooked up behind the display. Now this cord is one of those bulky ones with the little screws that you twist on each side to lock it into position. So before I could pull the cord out, I had to first untwist the thin little screws. I attempted to do this, blindly shuffling around the space behind the monitor, fingers feeling for the little screws and then painstakingly trying to untwist them. I was standing in an awkward position that put a strain on my back, but I figured the task would soon be over. But I was wrong. The harder I tried, the harder it got, and soon my body started to ache. My effort seemed in vain. The screws wouldn’t twist outward. Even when, eventually, they loosened a little, the cord wouldn’t come off. I pulled hard, in an achingly awkward physical position, and it still wouldn’t budge.

This whole matter suddenly seemed to take way longer than I had expected, and I noticed a feeling of frustration and anger arising in me. It was so annoying! Why couldn’t it just come off so I could get on with my day? The stupid monitor had thrown a wrench into my plans, and I was growing impatient. As I noticed these feelings and the painful sensations they came with, I decided to stop trying. I stepped back. Then I walked around my desk chair, and leaned behind the monitor to look at its back. Now with the back in full view, I was able to do the job. I finished twisting and the cord came loose in an instant.

As I moved away from the computer, cord in hand now, this incident suddenly seemed like a metaphor for the way we sometimes respond to life when faced with difficulty: We fight and we fight, we keep trying to do the same thing but harder, and it doesn’t work, and everything is so hard. It seems like our efforts are in vain. Sometimes we assume it’s us – we’re the problem, we’re in the wrong. Something is flawed inside of us, and we feel bad about ourselves. We get frustrated with life and we wan to quit. But in reality, it often isn’t personal. It’s not you. Nothing is wrong with you. What is wrong is the position from which you’re standing, from which you’re so effortfully trying to solve the problem. Sometimes you just need to change positions.

Yet how often do we simply continue standing in the wrong position, trying to effect change? How often do we try to change ourselves versus our position?

What’s tricky about life is that it comes with blindspots. We often can’t see that there is a monitor in front of us, and that’s what’s blocking our view and holding us back, and that’s what we need to change. We just see the pain and the frustrated effort, and all of the meanings about ourselves and the future that these facts are linked to, and we respond to the frustration with more frustration until we give up and the problem remains, forever a reminder of our own ineffectiveness. We get mired in feelings of anger, and frustration, and ineffectiveness.

Perhaps that’s where mindfulness comes in. It’s not that it reveals the monitor to us. It’s that it reveals our own reactions to things. The paradox is that by starting to notice that, we have already changed. We’ve grown a willingness to stop the fighting for a second and see what our emotional experience tells us – that this isn’t working and something needs to change – and then, only then, can we try something new rather than continue to be stuck. We’ve changed.

So we stop for a moment and observe our reactions to things. We observe ourselves getting angry, frustrated. We investigate why. We observe the things we are telling ourselves (“It’s my fault. I’m not good at this. It will never change.”) We accept these things as thoughts, not facts. We see how they hold us back. We ask ourselves what’s missing. We make hypotheses about roadblocks. If I go this way, will things change? Then we do, and we wait. We observe some more. Then we see results. Over time, we gain insight. We draw conclusions and move forward.

If we aren’t mindful, we might mindlessly get stuck in the anger, end up ruminating on life being unfair and things being difficult and everything being painful and things never working out, and perhaps kick this damn monitor and forget about the whole freaking endeavor altogether and go eat an ice cream sandwich instead. We end up becoming the pain and then looking for ways to shut it down rather than moving through it, using it as information to change course – a sign that perhaps what we’re doing isn’t working and we need to try something completely different. Perhaps mindfulness is a way into noticing and separating ourselves from and holding the pain long enough to see what it tells you, to gain insight that will move us toward change. 

So in the face of problems that seem intractable, unsolvable, what if we observed our emotions and used them as a cue to ask ourselves, “What’s missing from where I’m standing?” Sometimes the answer may not come immediately. It may not be time yet. We may have to, in those times, have faith, that change takes time, and make the choice to keep trying in different ways, keep going, keep holding and letting the pain go and being gentle with ourselves along the way so we can stick through the challenge until we see another way.

That’s what I think mindfulness is all about. Paying attention. Long enough so we are aware of our reactions and the full context. Non-judgmentally enough so we can see that context clearly and let go of the unhelpful thoughts and ideas blocking our view. And perhaps, with non-judgmentalness, we also get in the habit of being gentle as we watch ourselves move through the unpredictable process of change.