This
is a theory in two parts.
Maybe
two theories in two parts with one subtle connection.
Or,
maybe no connection.
Companion
theories? Companion parts? Two sides of the same story? A coincidence?
No, definitely not a coincidence.
I
don’t know. Let’s just dive in.
Over
the years, chances are very good that you have heard some version
of this concept: When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.
Yes,
that’s it, let’s call it a concept. And as a concept, it’s a pretty
good one overall. Simple, and yet, to a degree it’s a thinker.
A bit hits right away with stop making it worse message, and then
it expands a bit with the realization that more often than not
it can always get worse. More to the first half of our concept,
the ribbon proposes that finding a solution should always involve
stopping the problem.
For
years I taught first aid. (Stop laughing. I did. And my classes
were fantastic.) Do you know what the first rule of first aid
is? In a single word, stabilize.
When
you are delivering first aid to someone that’s hurt, you are not
in charge of making things better. First aid is not about treatments
and healing. This is important, because people tend to argue the
point and make first aid out to be more than it is when the reality
in those cases is closer to sometimes things aren’t as bad as
feared. First aid is, above all else, doing what needs to be done
so things don’t get worse and then seek further medical attention
as needed.
You
might need to see a doctor. You might only need a bandage. What
you don’t want to do is keep bleeding. Stabilize. (If you’ll allow,
stop digging.)
The
trick is, as I tried so wonderfully to consider as I opened this
essay, there is a second part lurking off in the corner. Figuratively
goes like this: If you’re in a hole and find a ladder, stop looking
for a way out.
And,
well, this is where all heck breaks loose.
See,
I have friends that will ask about the ladder. Is it a good ladder?
Is it a trustworthy ladder? Or is it a ladder that comes with
repercussions and conditions that are so monstrous in nature you’d
rather stay in the hole? (You know, figuratively.)
Yes.
There are worse things than being stuck in a hole. And some of
those worse things are the ways out.
Another
friend of mine summed it up even better. He and I had joked at
times about holes and shovels in something of an inside joke kind
of way. It was our shorthand for covering everything from bad
relationships to troubles at work.
I
was driving him home after a particularly horrible day. He asked
me to pull into a shopping plaza, where he went into a liquor
store and came back with a couple of bottles of wine and a couple
of bottles of rum. A he put on his seatbelt, he offered: “It’s
a hole. But it’s my hole, and as long as I’m in it I’m going to
make it comfortable.”
And
therein lies the theory. Or theories. Or realities.
The
debate isn’t always about the problem. It isn’t about putting
down shovels and finding ladders. Every so often, the solution
is actually another hole. It’s up to you to figure out where you’re
more comfortable.