Feeling Stuck? Why a Disorienting Dilemma Can Free You

Wake-Up Call #29

In a matter of days, this place will be a wonderland of snow and ice.

Ever get caught in the doom-cycle of disbelief and inaction?

I’m just too old.

I’m not rich enough.

I’m not smart enough.

I’m not strong enough.

I don’t have what it takes.

I don’t have the right connections.

I don’t have the yada, yada, and even more yada.

Been there. Done that. Will again.

Also broken out of it here and there. And, in a weird way. One I never really understood until recently. When I discovered the phenomenon known as the disorienting dilemma.

What in the world is a disorienting dilemma?

In fancy talk, a disorienting dilemma is a concept from transformative learning theory, developed by sociologist Jack Mezirow. It’s an experience or event that disrupts your existing beliefs, assumptions, or worldview. Maybe even challenges your understanding of reality or self-concept, creating confusion or discomfort—disorientation.

A disorienting dilemma blows up your belief about what is or isn’t possible, maybe even who you are…or aren’t…and leaves you to reassemble the pieces into a new belief and, often, sense of identity.

Disorienting dilemmas can lead to profound personal growth and change.

They can also foment resistance, entrenchment, defensiveness, or a retreat into familiar beliefs, comfort and safety as a coping mechanism. The old, “if I pretend it didn’t happen, maybe I can avoid feeling the dizziness and anxiety that comes from stepping into the void, and having to figure out what is real and true again.”

How you reassemble the pieces of the shattered model of what you believed, who you are, and what’s possible is everything.

Fun example…

Let’s say you’ve been dreaming about writing a book. You feel like you’ve got a story inside you. Maybe many.

Yet, you’re stymied by this perpetual limiting belief.

Who the hell am I to write a book? I mean, seriously, how arrogant to think there’s something about the story in my head, or…gulp…the story of me that is worthy of thousands of hours of translation into written word. Or, other people’s attention. Besides, I’m not a writer. I’m an [insert anything other than writer]. Writing books is for other people who have real stories to tell, and know how to tell them.

Years go by, leaving your legend bottled up inside.

Then, you stumble upon a Facebook post from an old friend. It’s a screenshot they’re sharing from Publisher’s Weekly. They just sold their first novel. And, it sounded like a pretty sweet deal.

Getting past the schadenfreude, you’re left to wonder…

Wait a minute, we grew up next door to each other. Similar families, values, incomes. Got basically the same grades, the same kind of smarts, similar struggles, went to similar colleges. Both got solid degrees, neither in writing. But we did stay in touch in those early days. I even remember trading notes on a few writing classes we each took at our respective colleges, before heading into careers that had nothing to do with writing.

Seems, from Facebook, we’ve lived somewhat similar lives. Done well in our careers, have a certain amount of access, families and kids, a house. All the trappings.

And, now, that thing I’ve always wanted to do, write a novel, but didn’t think was in the cards for me?

She did it.

Enter the disorienting dilemma.

If someone so like me was able to do the thing I’ve always wanted to do, but I convinced myself wasn’t possible—at least not for me—how do I reconcile my own lack of belief with the clear proof that it can, in fact, be done? And, by someone pretty similar to me?

Okay, so she’s not you. But, close enough to make it hard for you to keep up the facade of “I’m not worthy, or capable” or, “it can’t be done” by someone like me any more.

Two choices from here:

1. Reassemble the pieces of your shattered beliefs into new ones that say, “well, hell, if she did it, maybe I could too!”

2. Find or fabricate enough differences between you and her to let your brain retreat to, “well, just because she did it, that doesn’t mean I could.”

Here’s where it gets interesting…

Whether you choose option 1 or 2 is often less about truth or fact, and more about how well-equipped you feel to step into the abyss of uncertainty and effort that option 1 presents.

This is what lets you see the disorienting dilemma in a way that is either opportune, or a weird, non-repeatable quirk to be ignored.

If you are comfortable navigating the uncertainty of committing to writing a first novel, and the sustained, low-grade (ha! make that high-octane) anxiety the quest often provokes, you’re more likely to step into a new belief in possibility, and potentially even a new identity as a writer. Then, give it go.

At that point, it’s hard to defend disbelief or inaction.

If, however, you are not comfortable, or well-equipped with the skills, practices and state-of-mind to wade into the void of creation and be able to breathe, your brain will likely reassemble the shattered pieces of your belief into a new, differently shaped yet equally limiting diorama of disbelief. You’ll keep living in a shoebox displaying a scene called, “that was never mine to have.”

Same disorienting dilemma. Same facts. Same potential. But, your brain turns them into either a story of belief and action, or disbelief and inaction. And the deciding factor is not often objective reality, but rather the deeper, often less-than-conscious story about your belief in your ability to handle the unknown, the vulnerability, and the potential exposure it might bring.

Here’s the thing…

Circumstances for disorienting dilemmas happen to us, and around us, all the time. Big ones, and small ones.

They often start with a question.

Can I get this job?

Can I help this client?

Can I create a relationship with this awesome human?

Can I launch this new business or private practice?

Can I cross the finish line?

Can I love again?

Even if the opening answer is no, at some point, something happens that shatters your ability to stay in the no.

You’re left to decide. Will I, or won’t I?

When this happens, and it will, if you find yourself retreating to a new set of believes that brings you back to a place of comfort, but also limitation, ask yourself a question.

Is this the story I’m telling, because I feel ill-equipped to handle the groundlessness of possibility, and I don’t want to feel exposed or unsafe, or do the facts truly support a rational conclusion of impossibility?

If you’re bold enough to be honest, you may find yourself surprised by the answer.

I know I have, many times.

In those moments, the invitation is not to retreat, but to find your way forward to not just taking action on the dream, but also cultivating a new set of tools and practices that might help you navigate the unknown with more ease.

If that doesn’t work, just add more dark chocolate.

That tends to solve most problems for me!

With a whole lotta love & gratitude,

Jonathan

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Wake-Up Call #29 | Look for a “micro” disorienting dilemma.

Disorienting dilemmas are all around us, when we start to look for them. But, most are small enough that we don’t even notice, let alone respond to them.

Two invitations today -

One - looking back over the last few years, have you experienced a disorienting dilemma? If so, what happened?

How did it affect you?

How did you respond?

How did this either change you, or not?

Knowing what you now know, would you have explored if differently?

Can you do that now?

Two - over the next week, keep your mind and heart open to disorienting dilemmas that might show up in tiny “micro dilemma” ways. They can often serve as great test cases to help us examine how we handle moments that serve up opportunities to reexamine our beliefs, but with lower stakes.

As usual, think about it, feel about it, walk with it, write about it. And, if you’re inclined, share a few thoughts in the comments.