I loved George’s analogy to hyper-cleaning one’s house. I find it very helpful. Also, it instantly brought two other analogies from my own experiences to mind (cousins to George’s, I suppose):
1. On numerous occasions, my wife and I have had conversations that begin with a sigh of dissatisfaction from one of us: “Wouldn’t it be nice if we…
I loved George’s analogy to hyper-cleaning one’s house. I find it very helpful. Also, it instantly brought two other analogies from my own experiences to mind (cousins to George’s, I suppose):
1. On numerous occasions, my wife and I have had conversations that begin with a sigh of dissatisfaction from one of us: “Wouldn’t it be nice if we replaced that picture on our dining room wall with something brighter in color and more cheerful?” The moment we both get into the suggested project, one of us says, “I LOVE the idea, but if we’re gonna introduce new colors, maybe we should wait until we repaint the walls.” To which the other replies, “You’re right. But if we’re gonna repaint the dining room, we need to get new cabinets and new tiles for the kitchen floor.” Before we know it, the conversation leads to a wholesale transformation of the entire house. Often, this ends in us postponing ANY change, because it’s too expensive or unwieldy. But, now and then, we make a conscious decision to start with our original step or one of the early ones and see what develops. Maybe the same dynamic would work with a story?
2. Back in 2011, I had open heart surgery to replace a seriously defective aortic valve which had gotten SO leaky that about 85% of my blood flow was being pumped back INTO my heart instead of pushed out to my body. After the successful insertion of a new non-leaky valve, all that blood was being pumped vigorously OUT to my body. That was a good, life-saving thing. But, it was also a problem: suddenly there was so MUCH blood coursing through my body, and with such force, that each heart beat felt like a 50-foot wave of water CRASHING against every organ of my body. I could hear it surging in my ears; my arms and legs SHOOK with the force. It actually pained my head so much that I found myself bracing for the impact with each heartbeat. The surgeons had put a brand new valve in, but they hadn’t done anything to prepare the rest of my body which had grown accustomed to operating at 15% of capacity. Maybe in this analogy, the new aortic valve was a tiny, but vital change for the better in one part of the “story,” and the complaints, flinching, and shaking of other parts of my body were the rest of the “story” now clamoring for help in adjusting to the new, healthier flow?
I loved George’s analogy to hyper-cleaning one’s house. I find it very helpful. Also, it instantly brought two other analogies from my own experiences to mind (cousins to George’s, I suppose):
1. On numerous occasions, my wife and I have had conversations that begin with a sigh of dissatisfaction from one of us: “Wouldn’t it be nice if we replaced that picture on our dining room wall with something brighter in color and more cheerful?” The moment we both get into the suggested project, one of us says, “I LOVE the idea, but if we’re gonna introduce new colors, maybe we should wait until we repaint the walls.” To which the other replies, “You’re right. But if we’re gonna repaint the dining room, we need to get new cabinets and new tiles for the kitchen floor.” Before we know it, the conversation leads to a wholesale transformation of the entire house. Often, this ends in us postponing ANY change, because it’s too expensive or unwieldy. But, now and then, we make a conscious decision to start with our original step or one of the early ones and see what develops. Maybe the same dynamic would work with a story?
2. Back in 2011, I had open heart surgery to replace a seriously defective aortic valve which had gotten SO leaky that about 85% of my blood flow was being pumped back INTO my heart instead of pushed out to my body. After the successful insertion of a new non-leaky valve, all that blood was being pumped vigorously OUT to my body. That was a good, life-saving thing. But, it was also a problem: suddenly there was so MUCH blood coursing through my body, and with such force, that each heart beat felt like a 50-foot wave of water CRASHING against every organ of my body. I could hear it surging in my ears; my arms and legs SHOOK with the force. It actually pained my head so much that I found myself bracing for the impact with each heartbeat. The surgeons had put a brand new valve in, but they hadn’t done anything to prepare the rest of my body which had grown accustomed to operating at 15% of capacity. Maybe in this analogy, the new aortic valve was a tiny, but vital change for the better in one part of the “story,” and the complaints, flinching, and shaking of other parts of my body were the rest of the “story” now clamoring for help in adjusting to the new, healthier flow?