Do you remember the last time you got stuck trying to do something and it was just not working? So you try again. Still doesn’t work. And again. No go. The frustration mounts, as well as self-doubt—maybe I’m just no good at this, too dumb, incompetent. Angry words are muttered. Hands are thrown about in a nonverbal “WHAT?”.
And then magic happens. You talk to someone. Tell someone you’re stuck. Maybe say, “I need help.” Or you get up and walk around a bit. Then something comes to you, some twist on the process, some missed clue or misapplied step. You go back to the task and it’s like a puzzle in which all the pieces have fallen into place.
One of the situations in which this seems to occur most predictably is when you are looking for something, can’t find it, tell someone about it (maybe even just asking whether they have seen it), and all of a sudden you know where to look.
This has happened to me enough times, and in enough different circumstances, that I think some universal law must be involved. No telling how many times at work I have been stymied by some kind of software and I would say, “Jessica, can you come in here and help me with something?” My administrative assistant would come in and look over my shoulder while I tried to explain what was going on, and even before I can finish demonstrating what wasn’t working right—suddenly, it would. All of a sudden, I find myself checking the right box, right-clicking in the right field, opening the work in another screen—whatever that crucial missing step that was hiding from me was. The solution would suddenly snap into place. Sometimes Jessica might know the solution, other times she might not. That often didn’t matter at all. The – answer – was – just – there.
Happens at home too. The other day I had worked for a good two hours trying to format some headings in a document I was editing, and it just was not working. Frustrated and anxious because the deadline was rapidly approaching, and here I was stuck with a very unacceptable document, I got up and went into the kitchen to get a snack. I also told Mary Beth what was going on. Mulled it over a bit with her. On my way back to my chair, an inkling of what to do began to filter through my brain. By the time I was seated and put my hands on the keyboard, the right settings and steps were apparent and within moments the document was correctly formatted, finished, and forwarded.
The first time I recall this kind of thing happening was when I was about 14. Mowing grass. Inevitably, I would get halfway through and the mower would quit. Well, sometimes it would quit because I turned it off to go the house to get a drink of water. When I went to restart it, nothing happened. I knew how to set the throttle and choke and pull the starter rope. After getting frustrated enough, I would go back to the house and get my dad, or sometimes take a break while I waited for him to get home. He would walk out into the middle of the yard with me and he would say, “Show me what you’re doing,” whereupon I would grab the handle of the pull rope, and then notice the choke wasn’t set quite right, move it a notch, and with one gentle tug, the thing would chug to life. In those situations, Daddy would always say I just wasn’t holding my mouth right. Maybe that was it.
So . . . what to make of this? I am convinced I do not have a full understanding or a commanding theory about what is going on, but want to venture a few observations.
- Some experiences of getting stuck happen when we are attempting to do something over which we have not yet achieved mastery. Coupled with that, at least in my experience, is that the task is one for which the stuckee has been inadequately trained. With computer programs, my default attitude is, “How hard could it be?” I soon find out. In the current climate of rapidly expanding information technology, people do a lot of self-training, on-the-job training, and general blundering around on their own that leaves them vulnerable to frequent instances of stuckness. A reasonable take-away is that when you get stuck—whether performing a new or unfamiliar task, or trying to find your keys— don’t worry if something doesn’t go right. Persistence pays off. Don’t give up.
- One common component of these experiences seems to be frustration. The good folks at Merriam-Webster say that frustration means, “the state or an instance of being frustrated,” with “frustrated” in turn being defined as, “feeling discouragement, anger, and annoyance because of unresolved problems or unfulfilled goals, desires, or needs.”[1] It is not clear to me what role frustration has in getting unstuck from being stuck. Is it necessary to become frustrated in the first place? There seem to be times when I get stuck a bit, maybe remain calm, and figure things out without getting frustrated in the first place. Maybe the instances when frustration occurs are the ones that we remember. Necessary or not, frustration frequently seems to be a part of these experiences. My take-away here is that frustration could be a sign of being close to a breakthrough.
- The component of these getting-unstuck experiences that intrigues me the most is the part about voicing the predicament we find ourselves in. Confessing out loud that we are at a loss for how to proceed (lost, that is) and that we need help, seems to lead to a productive way forward. Reminds me in no small way of the Christian gospel, which prominently features the need to confess one’s sin (another word for not being able to achieve an important goal) and ask God for help (who is the only one who can get us out of this particular stuckness).[2] On a far lower plane than the matter of eternal salvation, simply saying out loud, “I can’t figure this out. Can someone help me?” often leads to a quick solution. My evidence for this is only anecdotal, certainly not tested scientifically, so submit it to your own experience before judging whether this holds true for you even part of the time. But for me, the take-away is: when you are stuck, tell someone, don’t keep it to yourself.
- The last part of this experience is the most amazing of all. How can it be that in one instance a task seems impossible, failure seems certain, and you keep coming up short—and then all of a sudden a solution appears? Leaves the impression that the answer was really there all the time and somehow you just couldn’t see it. Like the other day, Mary Beth told me she was looking for a book she knows she just had, and now she can’t find it anywhere.
“What book?” I asked her.
“Orphan Train. I need it for one of the classes I’m teaching.” And she sat down in her chair and immediately reached to a stack of books under an end table and picked it up.
“Right where you put it, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Looks like I put something else on top of it and I just wasn’t seeing it.” She had already looked in other rooms and other places in the same room, but when she expressed her frustration out loud, she immediately found it.
Perhaps this sequence describes what happens: (1) getting stuck in performing a task or reaching a goal, (2) getting frustrated, (3) telling someone about it, and (4) arriving at the solution. Now, I wouldn’t claim that things always work out this way, but it happens often enough that it might be worthwhile to pay attention to the sequence. When you are working at something and just can’t get it right, or when you can’t find something you mislaid, and you have gotten frustrated—tell someone what is happening, maybe even ask them for help. If they can give you the answer you need, great; but even if they can’t, you may find the answer staring you right in the face. “Oh, there it is. If it had been a snake, it would have bit me.”
September 1, 2021
[1] “Frustrated.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/frustrated. Accessed 31 Aug. 2021.
[2] “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” I John 1:9.
Garry Breland 