The northeast has had quite a time these past few months, what with Hurricane Irene on Labor Day weekend, the “Arborgeddon” snow event Halloween weekend and now we are in the thick of the holiday season and all of the turmoil that it brings. This all has left me reflecting on routine and its importance in our lives.

Most of the emergency-tenored cacophony of late seems to have sprung from the interruption of peoples lives and its impact on their routines. No power, no school, no work, no heat, no parking at the mall (well, OK, that last one isn’t really so big – but when it’s coupled with the preceding few…). Interruption in our routine feels like our lives are being attacked by intruders.

The human capacity for adaptability is truly impressive. Unfortunately we still don’t like the discomfort that comes with all that adapting. Our penchant for routine, pattern and predictability serves us well when we are driving a car or learning to walk. It creates discomfort and upset when we aren’t wanting it or looking forward to it. Even small things, like wanting a new website or organizational policy. Yes, one may want the finished piece based on their observation of its effectiveness for other similar companies, but the discomfort in truly embracing the change and the shifting of power is harder than most of us give it credit. How often have we heard (or said?) “Yes, I do want it – but not that way”. At the end of the day, what we are really reacting to is a basic interruption in routine.

One of my most useful quotes comes from the halls of recovery. It states that, “Change will not happen until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of change”. I have used this in a previous post, and I find it amazing and strangely comforting to see that really, when we boil most discomfort down, it all has the same base elements. Our routine (way of thinking, responding, interacting, coping, moving about, existing) has been interrupted and we are uncomfortable. Learning to sit with – and through – discomfort is what therapy is all about.

It’s true that we are all so much more the same than different. Be it recovering from loss or trauma, addiction or job loss, corporate management change or personal familial interactions, policy or pattern, it’s the pain of the interruption of routine that bristles us the most. Like Linus above, a new shirt may be prickly and scratchy at first, but give it some time and it can become your new favorite.

This holiday season when you are finding yourself snapping at someone or reacting strongly over a small thing, sit back and reflect if what you’re really reacting to may be a shift or interruption in your routine.

It all started with a New York Times article about the change in 18-year olds on college campuses, how they are truly unprepared for the realities of independent thinking and decision making and that it is a crisis of parental coddling country-wide. This stance was further supported in a story in Psychology Today and how the phenomenon is one of addiction to the pattern of thought and behavior, rather than a chemical.

Which leads into the recent re-report of “The Marshmallow Test” on CBS news in which the longitudinal study of 4-year olds and the ability to wait for a greater reward (the second marshmallow) has been proven to generate more successful and self-determined adults. Hmmmmm.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=amsqeYOk–w

Next, I heard an NPR radio interview about the observers of violent video games having higher traumatic responses to the experience than those playing it:

It can actually be more intense to watch the game than to play it

Play

Which finally crystalized into my hurting myself in fits of laughter (and possibly sadness) by the following video:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0VOVuxiahk

But after all is said and done, the common thread I have identified is one of a crisis of immediate gratification. It is the basis of all addiction and it unfortunately is not only ascribed to by 4-year olds desiring a marshmallow (or iPod or DS game) but by their parents too. All too often I hear parents complain about their children’s behavior issues yet in the same breath give in to a perceived societal norm, “well, how can we say no, all the other kids are doing/using it too”.

The crisis cannot be shrugged off or ignored any more. Kids are failing, employers and professors are saying no to them and they are returning home, defeated, to the very place where these mores were instilled. Since when was waiting for a long term reward associated with being bad? I remember a story about the things in life that are truly worthwhile – love, education, long-term friendship – all taking a lot of time and that bad things – the call in the night, the accident – were immediate and swift. Can we shift our society to remember that the word no is good? I have heard from education professionals that even grading has taken a hit for the worse, that rather than kids, and parents, waiting for quarterly grades to measure progress, they are considering bi-weekly grading. Where and when will it end?

Kids no longer know how to play without electronics, to make believe. I mean, “Tag” is fun! Look at sites like Streetplay.com, not just for nostalgia but for a blueprint of how to get back on track. Letting kids figure it out for themselves has great value. College freshmen are texting their parents about every little bump and bruise. Just because you can doesn’t necessarily mean you should.

How are you demonstrating the value in waiting for the second marshmallow?

Recently I took just such a car trip with unexpected side effects. We headed out to Webatuck, NY to the artisan village there for a day of crafts and wandering. Unfortunately, the roadside attraction that added to the spot’s charm had been demolished, the giant chair was gone, and surprisingly so was the craft village. All that remains is one small painter’s gallery. Really? A giant chair can have that much power?

But upon further reflection I realize that why yes it does. Think back to all of the myriad car trips you have taken and see what stands out. More often than not it’s the silly or strange or amazing “thing” along the way that we really remember and not whether or not the dog threw up or Jimmy spilled his soda, or even the destination. There is power in that unusual creation that someone boldly puts out there. It’s their inner creative uniqueness that is brazenly thrown up in larger than life form and it draws us to it, we stop in awe of someone else’s inner vision.

Vermontasaurus

Which is why I was melancholy when I  learned of a recent controversy over another roadside attraction. This time it’s the Vermontasaurus that is under fire. Apparently another person’s inner spark has created a brush fire of revolt and petty fines in a small town. I am saddened to think of this unique creation being cut down before it even has time to create a following. Just look at Webatuck and take heed. There is magic in the unusual and bold. Roadside attractions create an experience bigger than themselves, they can bring a community together if allowed.

So stop or take that extra 2 or 3-mile detour and go see the giant duck or funny-shaped whatchamacallit. Take pleasure in the journey, stop and see the sights. In retrospect you and the community will be glad you did.

The Butterfly Circus 2009

Watch this 36-minute movie and rethink your ROI on your daily grind and see if a change may be for the better for you as well. 36 minutes may be all that is standing in the way of your true happiness.

Having gone through this particular ringer, as well as years of business experience, MFT3 is well suited to be a source of support should you be ready to make some lemonade of your own.

When something remarkable comes across your path, I believe it is important to share it with as many people as you can. Please enjoy! Watch, learn, and pass along as you see fit.

Originally seen on the Oprah web site here.

It speaks for itself.