When she was little, my oldest daughter Anne had a stuffed animal named Spot after a cartoon character. If Spot got lost, the whole house was turned upside down. Anne couldn’t live without Spot. She held Spot, sucked her thumb, and fell asleep. So, we bought a second Spot. It didn’t work. She could tell the difference, making the second Spot useless. We cleaned the original Spot to limit the stink in the house. So, it wasn’t the smell of Spot that comforted Anne. It was the knowledge and presence of Spot that mattered.
I realize this behavior is typical of many young children. I’m sure my story of Anne reminds you of a similar stuffed animal or blanket you or one of your children or siblings had growing up. My older sister and youngest daughter had similar attachments to blankets. It’s normal behavior.
Anne no longer needs Spot. We kept Spot in a safe place, and when she moved out, we gave Anne Spot. There wasn’t a specific time when Anne approached us and said, “Here is Spot. I don’t need him anymore.” We didn’t have a time when we confronted Anne and told her she didn’t need the comfort of being with Spot to get through life. I wouldn’t even say she outgrew Spot. We didn’t think that Anne didn’t need Spot anymore; she must have been all grown up.
Neither Anne nor us could tell you the exact date she last used Spot to go to sleep. It just ended without ceremony.
The same is true for many things in life. I used to play basketball and slow-pitch softball a lot. It might have seemed like my life revolved around them to some people. But I no longer do either. The last time I played each, I was good at them. It wasn’t like the game had passed me by or I suffered an injury that made me stop.
I have also quit cross-country skiing, but that has more to do with the climate I live in. I likely will never ski downhill again, but that is due to age. Although I never hopped off the lift and said, “This is the final downhill run of my life.”
Eventually, we do everything we love for the last time and often don’t realize it while it is happening.
In many cases, it is because we find replacements. (Unlike smelling old Spot, skiing, softball, and basketball can be replaced.) I now play Pickleball and Golf a lot.
But people don’t like to change. They don’t care how much evidence you give them about how the new way might save them time or money. They don’t care if the new way makes more sense. They like the old way.
Change expert and author John Kotter suggests that creating a sense of urgency is the key to getting people to change. His first book on change discussed the eight steps needed to bring about change in an organization. In his follow-up books on the subject, he pointed out creating a sense of urgency is over half the work of step one. Ultimately publishing a book titled “A Sense of Urgency.”
Had Spot ever been permanently lost, I’m sure my two-year-old would have adjusted to the situation, sensed the urgency, and adapted to a new Spot.
Old habits hold us back. Things that at one time made sense often run their course. Although change is hard for nearly all of us, I look back on my life and see many ways changes have improved my life. Flip phones, satellite TV, and car keys were all once essential parts of my life. I have lived the last five years without all of them. Printed newspapers, magazines, and tools that plug into the wall have all left my life in the last year. I stopped carrying a wallet in my back pocket. Board games I loved have gone unplayed for years. I could list things all day, but you get the point.
If someone is trying to get you to change something, give them the benefit of the doubt and ask why the change is needed. If their reason seems even slightly realistic, make the change.
If you hold Spot too tightly for too long, he will start to wear out and lose his stuffing.
