Balancing Urgency with Patience: Getting Out of the Way of the Steamroller

Imagine the scene (or moment) from Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery as Powers commanders a steamroller and drives it slowly toward the security guard.  The guard can see his demise coming and holds out his hand, screaming "STOOOOOOOPPPPP!"  Powers could turn the steamroller.  The guard could step out of the way.  Both have it in their heads to do so but that would blow the bit.

Like the steamroller, change comes very slowly in life.  Our decisions to either turn the wheel away from disaster or to move out of its way is likewise a ridiculously slow process.  Urgency has little to with whether or not change happens.  You either agree with yourself to move out of the way or get squashed by the inevitability of your own end.

A guy decides he's 80 pounds overweight.  The anxiety sets in that he must lose the weight or continue to balloon up until he needs a scooter to traverse Great America as he sucks down his 4 gallon tub of Mountain Dew.  It is an immediate focus.  He wants to lose it NOW.  Except that truly losing 80 pounds and keeping it off isn't a thing that happens due to urgency.  It takes time.  It takes perseverance.  It takes patience.

Also - the Cubs.  108 years is a lot of freaking patience.

As always, the weight of the myriad examples of injustice and inequality and destruction of our planet and both objectification and marginalization of women all collude to have us all hold up our hand and scream "STOOOOOOPPPPP!"  But screaming it (even with the hand up in front) doesn't actually foment any discernible change.  In fact, the energy utilized to scream "STOOOOOPPPP!" several times is wasted when faced with the fact that time and perseverance takes energy.  Patience is hard when it meets the fiery passion of immediate need.

I hear what you're screaming in the air.  How can I not?  You're screaming it in my face.  What are you doing to change the steamroller's course or pull yourself out of its way?  What are you doing about the collective weight of horrors we inflict upon on another?  And if you are doing more than making noise, have some patience.  Put in the work.  Less noise, more forward motion.

Change comes slowly but it comes whether you like it or not.  The only difference is you.  Are you standing up to see the fruits of it or are you flattened by the inertia of thinking your voice, pitched high with urgency, will actually make a difference?