Shift Happens: On Gravity and Anchors
managing change, part 1
Happy Friday!
Lately I’ve been doing a lot of coaching and speaking about leading through change, so I thought it would be fun to share some snapshots of those learnings here in the Blue Room. When I walk with folks through transition and planning processes, I don’t have a specific system—I pull from all kinds of stuff I’ve picked up over the years—but in recent months I’ve been drawing heavily on human-centered design as well as the tools of improvisation. Design thinking prioritizes starting with empathy: really understanding the people with whom you work and whom you hope to serve—their real-life stories and actual needs (not what we assume they want or need, or once responded to but no longer do). And improvisation helps us find those small actionable steps that can give us some agency in a chaotic world.
Anyway, this week’s reflection addresses the WHAT of planning… questions like, “What are we called to focus on? What is our ‘work’? What is ours to do in this season?” Perhaps you’ve heard the quote, attributed to Einstein, that if he had an hour to solve a problem he’d spend 55 minutes defining the problem and 5 minutes on solutions.
I’ve found that we can sometimes define our work in ways that keep us stuck. There are two kinds of stuckness I want to address today.
The first kind of stuckness is known as gravity thinking. In design, a problem is defined simply as a situation we can take action on. A gravity problem is when we try to tackle something that’s a fixed condition of the world we live in, like gravity. It’s a law of nature.
A large number of Blue Room readers are religious leaders, so I’ll use an example from that world. Some weeks ago I was working with a group of church leaders on discerning priorities for next year. We got to talking about the broader culture and just how many competing demands there are on people’s time. Especially for families with children, church becomes one commitment among many. Further, many of us have discovered that even our most faithful members aren’t in church every single week—two to three Sundays per month is common, whether due to travel or other activities. I would argue that all of these are gravity problems… broad cultural conditions that are baked into the society at large. We can wish it weren’t so, or lament how it was “back in our day” when church was the center of cultural life, or scold people for not doing things the way we think they should, but none of that changes the gravity of the situation. (We’ve been complaining about youth sports on Sunday mornings for decades. Stop!)
When faced with gravity thinking, we need to think in terms of two things: acceptance of the gravity as a given, and discerning how to work with, in, around, or despite the gravity. We aren’t going to change the thick menu of options for people’s time, but we can make sure what we do offer is spiritually meaningful and worthwhile. We can offer a counter-narrative to a culture built on achievement and competition and More, and provide resources to help people discern what a meaningful life really looks like, and help them learn to say faithful yays and nays. We can figure out how worship and education and communication need to look so people who aren’t there every week don’t feel left out.
One caveat about this. Some time ago I was coaching a group that included a gay man, who recalled a time when the denomination he served did not allow LGBTQ individuals to be ordained leaders. He said, “That really felt like gravity. And yet over time, we helped the church shift to a more just system.” So yes: thankfully, gravity does change from time to time. But I would argue that it changes when we stop focusing on the big, seemingly insurmountable constraints and start focusing on what’s in our power to change. In the case of LGBTQ rights, that meant putting a face on the issue, up close and personal. Educating. Grassroots advocacy. Advancing policies that may be rejected again and again, then refining them until finally the policies change. Remember that by definition, a problem is something we can take action on. If you’re feeling stuck, make sure there isn’t any gravity embedded in your thinking.
A second kind of stuckness is called anchor thinking. I’ve written about this before (including in the book). Anchor thinking occurs when we define a problem in a way that presupposes the solution. From time to time I coach would-be writers who believe that being a writer means getting up early every day, sitting in a special chair, writing uninterrupted for 2-3 hours, etc. But what if you’re a night person? Or a shift worker? Or a nursing mother whose mornings are spent caring for an infant?
As we emerge from the pandemic, there’s angst in many churches about getting people “back” to the “regular” routine. “How do we get children into Sunday School again” is anchor thinking. It assumes that the only way, or the best way, to serve the spiritual needs of children is at 9:00 on a Sunday morning. Who says?
The antidote for anchor thinking is to reframe and redefine the problem. Which requires both creativity and discernment. As someone who’s now written three books and has never been an early morning, daily writer, I can tell you there are lots of ways to write a book, but you may have to get unanchored from the “shoulds” that don’t fit you. Congregations that care about the faith formation of children need to discern whether a Sunday School model is the best option given your congregation. Maybe it is, but getting un-anchored from a predetermined outcome opens up all kinds of other possibilities.
Non-church folk, thanks for bearing with me through these congregationally-specific examples. But the terminology is good for all kinds of contexts. Are you feeling stuck? Is it because you’re trying to defy gravity? (Only Elphaba can pull that off, and I’m pretty sure there was a harness involved.) Or is it because you’re anchored to assumptions that don’t serve you?
Stories, pushback, comments… all are welcome.
I’m glad we’re in this together.
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Part 2 of this “Managing Change” series is here; part 3 is here.
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Link Love
I’ve been sharing this article with everyone I know who works with youth or loves a young person who struggles with mental illness: “Teenagers Are Telling Us That Something Is Wrong With America.” (no paywall)