Taking the Risk to Change

My 6-year-old grandson called the other evening. “Poppy,” he asked, “...when you were a boy, did they have furniture?” I was somewhat taken aback, in part by the unexpected question and mostly because of having been presented with one of those moments I believe John Lennon referred to when he said during an interview, “Life is what happens while you are busy making plans.” I was mowing the lawn and felt the phone vibrate in my pocket and stopped to answer, certainly not expecting anything quite like this question.

Apparently, my grandson had been talking with his father and had asked him this question. My son-in-law—in part recognizing the humor in the question and knowing that I would appreciate it—and in part recognizing its innocence and simple beauty, suggested that his son call his grandfather and ask him the question directly. Bobby—named after his dad who was named after his dad, making him “the third”--called, dialing the phone by himself and posing his question to his grandfather directly. I assured him that indeed, furniture was invented long before his grandfather had been a boy, but found myself marveling at the significance of this question after we ended our conversation. The more I considered our brief conversation the more I realized that my grandson was beginning to ask questions about what he thinks about the world in which he lives. It then occurred to me how similar this may be to the experience of individuals with whom I have worked in counseling over the past 35+ years.

Like my grandson, individuals in counseling begin to experience change when we they feel safe enough to ask questions about what they believe are the facts in their lives, what they think and believe if you will, and do so without fear of retribution. “Change,” as I once heard said at an AA meeting, “...is an inside job.” But this change only occurs when one is able to see life—the “facts” if you will—from a new perspective. I can then choose to move from where I am to where I now want to be, based on my new perspective. To gain that new perspective, one often must take risks, most notably the move from a place of comfort to one at best unknown and often potentially unsettling. Before one can take that risk two things have to happen. First, I must become aware that what I think may not be all there is to be known on a given topic. Second, I must find a way to explore what there is to be known about the topic in question, a.k.a., "the world," and here in lies the “quest” in asking the the “question.”

My grandson truly believed that his grandfather predated the invention of furniture. This is not such an odd question for a six-year-old to ask...my grandfather was six in 1903 when the Wright Brothers first flew. I could have asked him, “Poppy"--I called my grandfather Poppy too--"Did they have airplanes when you were a boy?” The questions we ask are not as important as feeling safe enough to take the risk of asking them. It is likely that no two individuals see the world through the same set of lenses...we all have our own unique prescription. What is important is feeling safe enough to ask our questions and encouraged to pursue the development of new information on which to base our choices and decisions as regards how to live our lives.

My grandson now knows just a little bit more about his life...at least how his view of that life comes to make sense to him in the context of the “big picture.” But he has taken that tiny step forward because he was encouraged by his dad to, “ask Poppy,” and when he did, he was able to get an answer from Poppy. The funny thing is that while he is likely clueless of how significant that experience was in his development as a person, his grandfather could only marvel at its significance...and how like professional counseling in that it is only when someone feels safe enough to ask the spontaneous question that the opportunity for growth is presented.

When I apply this personal life experience to my work as an educator I wonder how do we who are just a bit further along the road of discovery in life encourage those who follow us to appreciate the journey? How do we who encounter those who believe they “know it all” to explore what they know in order to discover there is more? As my grandfather used to tell me, “Wisdom is the gift received when recognizing the limits of one’s knowledge.”

(NOTE: For a musical treat listen to Dan Foggleburg’s “The Higher I Climb” cut from his High Country Snow CD – see lyrics at the bottom on my web page, http://www.robertchapman.net/home1.htm )