Staying With the The Devil You Know

Posted on by stilllearning2b
devil you know

Is it better to stay with the devil you know?

The Monty Hall problem is a famous puzzle in mathematics. In this dilemma, a contestant on a gameshow is attempting to correctly choose the one door out of of three that hides a prize. The contestant selects door and does not open it. The host then opens door three, revealing that there is no prize. The player is then given the option to stick with their initial choice or switch to the second door.

Most people intuitively feel that remaining with the initial choice of door one is advantageous or that the contestant now has an equal chance with either door one or two. Mathematically, however, the player has a better opportunity of winning (67% chance) if they change their selection.

When this solution was first published, the outcry was enormous, well beyond what would be expected for a math-related article. So why were people so resistant to the idea of letting go and taking their chances on something new?

Once people make a decision or arrive at a solution, they take on a sense of ownership of that idea. And once they possess it, they become wary of letting it go. In a sense, releasing the choice becomes a loss. And we often act to avoid loss.

The first choice for the contestant is knee-jerk. At that point, all of the doors have an equal chance of containing the prize. But once the second choice is offered, the situation has changed. Inaction is tempting both because it needs no overcoming of inertia and accepting a loss due to a failure to act is easier than accepting a loss that arises directly from an action.

And then of course, there’s ego that has a difficult time admitting that maybe the first choice wasn’t the right pick after all.

And all of this simply to avoid leaving behind a door that may not even contain a prize.

We face a version of this dilemma in life. Except then, we know what is behind the door. And yet sometimes we struggle to choose another option even when we know that what lies behind the door we picked is certainly no prize.

I think we’ve all chosen the devil we know at times. Maybe you stayed in a job too long that wasn’t a good fit. Perhaps you tolerated an abusive situation after the pattern became clear. Or possibly you have clung to a self-narrative long past its expiration date.

We justify our decision to stay with the status quo –

“At least I know what to expect.”

“I know how to navigate this situation and I don’t now how to do the other.”

“Maybe this is the best I can do.”

“I still have hope that this situation can change.”

It;s scary to leave what you know. It’s hard to admit that maybe your first choice wasn’t such a good one. It’s so hard to let go of one selection when you don’t yet know where the other will lead.

But if you know that the door you chose isn’t right for you, maybe it’s time to select another. After all, that one might just hide the prize you’ve been looking for.

Guest Post: Walking Like Sasquatch

Posted on by stilllearning2b

While I am away for a few days, I am sharing a series of guest posts from some awesome bloggers. This one is from Chey Being, who describes herself on her “About” page:

I believe in the Law of Attraction. I believe in laughing, especially at yourself. Flowers make me incredibly happy. I believe there is no such thing as right or wrong. I respect all beliefs because no one can possibly be “right.” Everyone should dance. Speaking and living your truth is one of the hardest things to do. I love the smell of books. I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in looking a waiter in the eye at a restaurant. I believe in saying, “Thank you!”  Singing really loud and really bad is so much fun (at least for me). I am a perfectionist and it is important to me that I work on chillin’ the f*&$ out!  Exercise is my meditation.

You can also follow her on Twitter under the handle @leap_of_faith7

Check out her piece below with an important reminder for everyone and then send her a smile or a flower or some eau de bookstore:)

Walking Like Sasquatch

Recently, my husband and I were on a walk and I was in a rather silly mood.  I was being goofy and started doing funny walks, a moon walk (MJ I am not!), skipping, a penguin walk, and then I began walking like Sasquatch.  I was taking long slow deliberate steps and slowly moving my head side to side, just like in the famous video played on TV a million times over.  Later that evening, we went to see the new X-Men movie at the Drive-In (Yes, we have a Drive-In…so cool!) and in the movie, there was an awesome slow-motion scene.  All this slow-motion business caused me to think about how we live life…there is nothing slo-mo about it.
Sasquatch-e1379632222498
My life was a prime example of being quick to draw.  I would immediately judge every situation and circumstance and react.  If my ex-husband sent me a not-so-nice email, I would quickly respond with a biting tongue.  It was my current husband who opened my eyes to my behavior.  I would show him my responses to my ex and he always told me that I needed to wait, calm down, and then respond.  My agitation would not help the situation but only add fuel to the fire.
I acted quickly in all situations of crisis.  I don’t like loose-ends, I want to be in control, and if someone upsets me I feel they need to know it.  I also feared “bad things” happening if I didn’t act fast enough to try and “fix” them.  Life can quickly become a series of reactions.  When that happens, we are no longer determining our path, we are letting circumstances dictate our life.  We become like a computer where somebody is pushing our buttons and we react.  The computer does not make the decisions, it only runs its program (your mind) and responds accordingly.
Aside from my Type A personality, there was a deeper reason to my quick emotional responses.  I have since figured out that when I am not living my truth, my path in life, every silly little thing around me becomes my life.  There is nothing else, I am not creating anything else, so I create distractions that appear meaningful.  When I am living and moving in a direction that is purposeful, all the little distractions have less meaning and power over me.  They become little bumps in the road, no more, no less.  I no longer allow them to veer me off down a dead end.
Life happens and at times it seems to spin out of control.  We try to match the pace to control it by making impulsive decisions.  Our responses are often based solely on emotions, such as fear, jealousy, anger, and hurt.  Sometimes no action is best but we do not allow ourselves a moment to ask, is this really important to me?  I have learned to sit back, allow myself to think and then react if necessary.  I try to not let fear or my Irish temper control what I do.  Fear has controlled me for most of my life.  I no longer want to run that program.  As silly as it sounds, I want to live life walking like Sasquatch.  We can all make more conscious moves.  We can watch the world spin around us and if we want to join in, we can, if not, we can keep moving.

 

Too Many, Too Much

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I met up with a friend this morning for a run. She’s at a point in her life where she wants to make some changes and she has many options open to her. Sounds good, right? Well, much like research has shown, too many options are simply too much for us to handle.

(Some find too many choices in online dating; personally, I loved the endless streams of men!:) )

My friend has been stationary for the last several months as she carefully weighs the pros and cons of each opportunity presented to her. To make the decision even more challenging, she keeps casting a wider and wider net and finding yet more possibilities. 

Her mind is frantic. Yet she remains paralyzed by indecision. She has tentatively explored some of the options, yet is spread too thin to give any one choice her all.

After listening to her new proposals and plan de jour, I suggested that she needs to simply choose one path, invest in that one 100% for a set period of time and hold the other options in reserve if the chosen one ends up being a debacle. I went on to say that by not choosing one path, she was setting herself up for failure with all of the potentials because she couldn’t invest enough time and energy to succeed.  Of course, that’s assuming she could even break her paralysis enough to move at all.

After I finished my short recommendation, I glanced over at her. Her stride had picked up, her shoulders settled back and down. She visibly looked lighter. 

I remember that paralysis of infinite choices all too well. For a year, I existed with a future full of untethered possibilities. I had given notice at my school and stated my intention to leave my friend’s home. I was dating but, as yet, had not met anyone that I felt particularly pulled to. I was unhappy with my career and exploring the idea of switching tracks. I knew I needed to leave the area where I was living, but apart from a vague desire to relocate to Seattle, had not made any concrete plans. 

As the end of the school year drew ever closer, I knew that my endless cyclical thoughts needed to become some sort of reality. I decided to start by deciding to remain in education and set about applying to jobs in the Seattle area. My endless and open choices became targeted resumes and cover letters, organized with my inevitable spreadsheets. Even though the future was still entirely unknown, I felt calmer and somehow more in control once I had a task to tackle. 

It’s funny how just the illusion of control can bring some peace. The jobs in Seattle never materialized and the spreadsheet was abandoned soon after I started dating Brock. But it served its purpose. It became a focal point, a light showing me a path when I was busy spinning in the dark. The efforts were not wasted; the decisions and resumes were simply applied in a new arena where they turned into a new job. 

As for my friend, I don’t know what our next run will reveal but I hope that she is able to break from the immobilization of too many and too much. I hope that the feeling of being out of control and overwhelmed can be replaced with a feeling of determination and intention.

As for me, I’ve decided to practice what I preach. I was feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of paint chips I had amassed to pick colors for the new house. I am beginning by limiting my choices and then selecting from that smaller pool. And then I just may decide to take a nap:)

photo-149

 

 

Those Who Can

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I never planned on becoming a teacher. My initial goal was architecture, but I veered away from that field as fewer and fewer opportunities were available within the profession.  My next choice was physical therapy – it offered the blend of science and social interaction I desired plus I was drawn to the idea of helping others (I had therapists after the surgery on my hand that were very influential ). While still living in Texas, I earned over 120 hours of college credit, both through AP exams and coursework. I was in the process of applying to a program that would allow me to complete my degree in physical therapy.

And then I moved to Georgia and lost all my hours.

My ex never went to college. He was a brilliant guy, yet he didn’t “do” school very well. He started off doing manual work, mainly carpentry related. He wasn’t content to stay in low wage jobs that didn’t stimulate him. He always wanted to learn and grow. Unfortunately, San Antonio was not exactly a hotbed of opportunities for him. As long as we stayed in our childhood city, his income would be low and he would be bored. He found a job in Atlanta and moved in October of 1998. I stayed behind until June, finishing out the lease and my year of school.

I never hesitated to move. Being with him was more important than a program in school or a dot on the map. At the time it was a no-brainer. I packed up my life, said goodbye to friends and family and drove 24 hours in a Ryder truck with a pug on my lap and a sedated kitten by my feet.

I had decided to take the fall semester off school to give me time to locate a new job and to get an idea of the city and its universities. During my second week here, I ventured out onto the interstates to tour Georgia State, located smack in the middle of downtown. By the time I pulled into a parking spot in the garage, I was in tears, shaking from the overwhelming traffic and confusing road signs. Over the next few months, I grew comfortable with the traffic and started to learn the city.

I fell in love with the campus at Oglethorpe on my first visit. It’s gothic architecture captivated me and I had romantic images of studying in its grand spaces. The grant they offered me for my academic record secured the deal. That semester was great and terrible. I was newly married. We had purchased a home. I loved being back in school and I enjoyed the classes. I was volunteering at a physical therapy clinic to learn the craft and complete the required hours for admission into a program. But then my ex’s company folded and I learned that all my credits had transferred as electives, leaving me with a seemingly endless program until I would have me degree.

I had to make a decision. Physical therapy requires a master’s degree. With my credits disappearing  like bubbles in the wind, that would take another 6 years. Six years where I would only be able to pull in minimal wages at some part time job. I made a decision to change my major, to sacrifice my dream for the financial well being of the marriage. I needed a program that I could complete at night and online, freeing up more hours for employment. I needed something that only required a bachelor’s degree. I needed a career that was stable to balance my ex’s career path, which tended towards ups and downs.

I became a teacher.

This was my choice. I was never forced. I was not coerced. I made the decision for us, for the marriage.

It turned out that I was a good teacher. I was the youngest ever recipient of the Teacher of the Year award at my former school. I quickly gained leadership roles and was considered a mentor teacher. I obtained my master’s degree in education, mainly to help bring my paycheck up to more reasonable levels. I loved creating creative and varied lessons that were engaging. I basked in the rewards of thank you notes and visits from former students. It was always a hard job, but I never questioned it.

He was always very supportive of me and helped lessen the load of my job. He would assist in the packing and unpacking that bookends every school year. He would carry in flats of water and snacks for me after Costco runs. He would prepare dinner and rub my feet after long days. He showed up at science fairs and PTA meetings. He listened to “teacher talk” when we were out with friends and sympathized with our trials. He helped to make a hard job easier.

And then he left.

And I grew angry.

It wasn’t fair. I felt trapped in a career that I had chosen for us. I made decisions that were the best for the marriage and he chose to throw the marriage away. I started to regret my choices from long ago that started me on this path. It became easier to focus on the negative aspects of teaching and fail to recognize the blessings.

I looked at options, looking to see if I could make a change. It was hard to accept that, in many ways, it was too late. My science classes were too old to count. I would have to become a fulltime student again for many years to complete the required courses. I simply couldn’t leave the known paycheck of teaching, especially while facing the debt he left me with, in order to make that kind of schooling happen.

I grew angrier.

I wanted recognition for my sacrifice. I wanted him to thank me for putting the marriage first. I wanted sympathy for the position in which he left me.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Although he was supportive during the marriage, that support stopped when he walked out the door.

As time moved on, my life began to fill with new friends and a new partner. None of them are teachers or have much experience with schooling apart from their own.  I bristled at the comments about how lucky I was to have summers off or how teachers have it easy, getting off before 5:00 pm. When someone mentioned a lunch hour, I would snap.

I began to be resentful of my days with little to no breaks, 15 minute lunches in a room with 300 teenagers and endless hours on my feet.  I wanted to be understood. I wanted to be recognized.

But not by them, the friends which were speaking from lack of knowledge.  By my ex.

I still struggle with this, especially as the demands on educators increase and the compensation decreases. I find the resentment creeping in when I come home to Brock napping on the couch. I feel it when I open my paycheck to find yet another furlough. It rears its ugly head when I am tired and overwhelmed.

I don’t want to be this way. I made the choice to be teacher and I need to stop blaming him for that decision. It has been a very rewarding career in so many ways. I have been successful and, more importantly, have influenced thousands of lives. I don’t want to be angry about it. I don’t want to feel stuck. I don’t want to get frustrated when I don’t feel understood. And I don’t want to have to find external validation and affirmation for the challenges.

I’ve addressed the feeling of being stuck by pursuing other avenues – wellness coaching and writing. Although these do not bring in enough income to replace teaching, they give me an outlet and help to pad my paycheck.

I’m better on the anger. I made the best decisions I could have in those moments. I would make those same decisions again. I need to remember the husband who was supportive and understanding, not the one who spent my paycheck on a wedding ring for the other wife.

Now, I need to address the frustration. The need for validation and commiseration. Yeah, it’s a tough job. Lots of jobs are. I’d love it if it would pay more. But I’m nowhere near alone in that complaint. I tire of the bell that drives my life, but most jobs have deadline of some sort (mine just happens to come every 55 minutes!). The days are long and the breaks are short.

But the rewards are wonderful. Every year, I get to know over a hundred teenagers at the brink of adulthood. I get to hear their stories and shape their lives. Although I am not a mother, I now have well over a thousand “kids” that write me and visit me, sharing the successes of their lives. I get to help people overcome their fear of math, often turning it into a favorite subject. I get to wear jeans on Fridays and drink coffee from an endless selection of gifted mugs. I can act silly and stupid with no fear.  In fact, the sillier I am, the more they learn. I can help new teachers learn the craft and I can share my lessons with others (I was recently filmed by the Department of Education for a database of exemplary teaching!). I can use my skills to help improve the status of teachers in our society, bringing professionalism to a job that is frequently underappreciated.

I am choosing to let go of the anger and frustration. I am choosing to be thankful for a career that has allowed me to grow as a person and help others grow as well. I am choosing to not seek what I want from ex from the others around me; that’s not their burden to carry.

It is often said that those who can’t, teach. I disagree.

Well, I can. And I choose to teach.

But I’ll still take a foot rub if one is offered:)