There are two types of people in the world - measurers and tasters, those who make plans and those who ignore them. I am the first, and Jason is the second. There are people who detest chaos and people who thrive on it. I am the first; I try not to resent the second. Some of us get a thrill out of completing lists; others relish trashing their lists for something shiny & new. I am the first. My work requires the second. That’s a big problem for me.
I asked for blog suggestions last week, and a friend (thanks, Tammy!) gave me two: (1) constantly changing work environments and (2) good coffee. One of those is a source of deep angst in my life, the other of superficial appreciation. I’ll write about both!
It took me years, decades really, to learn that the “other type” of people, the tasters, aren’t inferior. They don’t need to be fixed or rescued. In fact, if a list gets boring enough, even hyper-planners like me can enjoy an interesting distraction. Any “two types of people” statement is either a joke or a lie. Change tolerance is a spectrum, not a binary state. So is attention to detail. My band in the spectrum feels right to me. The other bands feel wrong. Worse than wrong, they can seem outright cruel when it’s my well-formed plan they lob in the trash.
I crave stability & consistency because feeling lost & confused is scary, terrifying even. In my defense, it’s a survival instinct that generally serves species well.
But as a a middle class American in the 21st century, my survival isn’t at stake when Lucy moves the football on me for the 50th time at work.
My reputation is at stake. My sense of competence is at stake. Maybe my actual competence is too. The way I react to difficulty when I’m scared & confused is…suboptimal. I can’t find the right words. I can’t reason through problems. I make more mistakes, and I have less patience. Then I look over to see all the “other types” who weren’t going to execute our real plan anyway just blithely pivot like there was never a football in the first place. See what I mean? Suboptimal.
The upside is I’ve been this way over four decades now, and I’m starting to figure out how to work with it. I practice 3 steps as I gaze at the sky after whiffing the ball thanks to a taster:
1 - Switch my perspective
Put myself in “their” shoes for a minute. Imagine they see a rigid, inflexible grump who wants it her way or no way at all. Realize that’s partially accurate. Wonder what makes them feel lost & confused. Maybe it’s executing an intricate plan laid out months ago, i.e., my specialty. Appreciate that it takes both types, the whole spectrum, to run a successful business. Applaud them for adapting to changing circumstances.
2 - Protect my peace
I heard this phrase from a coworker, and it resonated in my bones. I Googled its origin and instantly put Protect Your Peace: Nine Unapologetic Principles for Thriving in a Chaotic World on my reading list to pick up after I finish The Let Them Theory. Not having read the book yet, I only have my response to those three little words to share. It’s simple - go where my gifts shine. I have a choice about the demands I’ll tolerate. There’s no law saying I must fulfill every role in every circumstance to be a good person. I made up that law for myself, and the Supreme Court of Carrie needs to strike it down.
3 - Stretch myself
This follows #2 for a reason. Only AFTER I mentally advocate for my peace and well-being do I consider potential for growth. Could the changes I face lead to better outcomes? Do I have the resources to scale the cliff of incompetence and learn something new right now? If not, where can I get them? How can I reframe my confusion & fear as opportunity & adventure? A healthy degree of discomfort in life is good.
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