In a world where it feels like everything is in flux and uncertain, we yearn for stability, certainty, and clarity. We want things to make sense, but all we see, and experience is an incoherent universe, where there is no continuity, and maximum irregularity. As a result, we wake up each day feeling alone, exhausted, drained, and overwhelmed.
The outcome of this on-going daily experience is that many people default to the path of least resistance. They feel like nothing matters anymore. They also feel hopeless about making progress, and meeting expectations at work and at home.
Other people respond to this on-going daily experience by hitting the “power through button,” referencing the work of Brene’ Brown. They do this, because they don’t like messy, they don’t do messy, and they really can’t tolerate messy. While the former give up, the latter buckle down and push harder and harder, trying to create control and order in a world that is just absurdly crazy. The outcome of this choice is that people end up breaking apart and falling apart. And it happens at the mind, body, and social/emotional levels of life. Some even experience it at the spiritual level. Then, life just becomes even harder.
As an executive coach, I meet with these two kinds of people on a regular basis. Both are struggling, and do not know where to go or what to do. So, the first thing I do is give them a phrase for what they are experiencing, namely disjointed incrementalism. I define this term as knowing where you want to go and what you want to be experiencing, but feeling not exactly sure of how to get there, or what to do along the way to get to this desired better place. Having a name for what we are experiencing moves something from the abstract to the concrete, and, over time, creates a pathway forward.
Second, I encourage people to reach out and make a connection with others. Given current events, some people have forgotten that there was a time in history when there was no internet and no cell phones. During this time period, you had three choices for connecting. First, you could call someone on a land line and talk. Second, you could see them face to face and talk. Or, third, you could write them a letter and mail it. All three of these options created connections and were life giving.
While I do call people on the phone, and I do meet with people face to face, I always find letter writing to be a powerful way to connect. This form of sharing takes time and energy, but it also can be cathartic. For when we write letters, we can move at the speed of thought and reflection, rather than the speed of software and connectivity. And in this special space, we can transcend the surface of our lives and move deeper into the wholeness of our lives, uncovering new insights and perspectives. Furthermore, when we receive a letter in the mail, we have a tangible record of the connection that was created and shared. This depth of connection is rarely experienced in a text or an e-mail, simply because we do not print them off and save them for future reading or re-reading.
A long time ago, I lived in rural Vermont for a year. In order to mail a letter or to receive a letter, I had to walk over a mile to the mail box alongside a nearby asphalt road. I did this routinely no matter the weather. And on the day that a letter came, my spirits were lifted and I looked forward to reading this letter once I walked back to the cabin where I was living.
Nowadays, there are many ways to connect. The key when experiencing disjointed incrementalism is to consciously choose to connect in a form that is meaningful and intentional. Then, we need to share our whole selves with people, especially those who can be present to what we are experiencing, and who will not try to fix us as much as be present and supportive. This unique group of people recognize that the goal in life is not perfectionism, but instead to experience joy, self-improvement, and the courage to love and live into life’s challenges and celebrations. For when we connect with these kinds of people, we come to understand that we are not alone, even when we are hurting or struggling with how to move forward.
Third, as an executive coach, I often remind people of this short phrase from the book, Dare To Lead: Brave Work, Tough Conversations, Whole Hearts (Random House, 2018) by Brene’ Brown: “Trust is built in small moments.” I think the challenge given our current and on-going experiences is that we do not create these small moments in our lives. Furthermore, I don’t believe we are open to them, or are willing to be present to them, even when they show up.
Instead, many people hope for a singular moment of transformation, where a mind-blowing epiphany generates a feeling of profound clarity and certainty. While these do occasionally happen during life’s journey, the majority of living into clarity happens during the small, common moments where we come to understand something or experience something that opens the door to new insights and perspectives.
For me, in my personal and professional life, these special small moments often happen over a meal, a cup of coffee with friends, or when I am with my kitchen table cabinet, i.e. my circle of mentors and advisors who help me to stay centered in the midst of the whirling winds of change and turbulence. For when I choose to make time and space for these people, and when I discipline myself to keep making regular time and space for these people in my life, trust is built and the resulting connections generated from our time together allow me to move from unaware to aware, and ultimately to a level of understanding that is powerful and immensely helpful.
Fourth, as an executive coach, I often encourage people to remember what is precious in their life, and to not loose touch with it. I think one of the common problems these days is that we get so busy and overwhelmed with details, lists, and expectations placed upon us by ourselves and others, that we are no longer are connected to the things that give our lives meaning and purpose. As Ajajn Chah, a Thai Buddhist monk, once said: ”It’s like we’re riding a horse and asking, ‘Where’s the horse?’.” In essence, we’ve lost touch with the metaphorical horse, and wonder how to find it in the midst of racing around trying to get everything done and organized.
When I find myself in this space, and caught in go mode, I need to pause and remember the advice and counsel of Charlie Mackesy in his delightful book, The Boy, The Mole, The Fox And The Horse (HarperOne, 2019): “When big things feel out of control, focus on what you love right under your nose.” And when I pause and focus on my heart, I rediscover the blessing of my dearly beloveds, a phrase my late father used for the most special people in his life. These are the people who are most dear to me and who make my life meaningful, purposeful, and precious. These are the people who make me want to be a better person. These are the people who open my eyes to see the sacred within the ordinary, and the “miraculous in the mundane,” referencing the writings of Pittman McGehee, a Jungian analyst, author, and Episcopal priest. And because of them, I feel blessed beyond measure and a sense of peace that in time, all will be well.
Current events will continue to be challenging, and the road ahead will be filled with significant and uncomfortable turbulence. Nevertheless, when we recognize that we are experiencing disjointed incrementalism and that this is normal, we can choose to strengthen our connections with others and recognize that trust is built in small moments. Furthermore, we also can remember what is precious and meaningful in our life, and choose to stay in touch with these important people. For in the grand scheme of life, I think we need to remember one more wise bit of advice and counsel shared by Charles Mackesy in the aforementioned book: “Always remember you matter, you’re important and you are loved, and you bring to this world things no one else can.” And as we do this, we will transform ourselves and the entire world around us.
© Geery Howe 2025
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