Sometimes you Have to Pick up the Sledgehammer!

Hello there, ledge walkers.

I was thinking about yesterday’s post, about getting tired of asking people to do things and eventually realizing that chasing other adults has become a job all by itself.

And it reminded me of a family story from many, many moons ago.

My aunt did not like her kitchen.

I don’t remember exactly how long she had been waiting, so I won’t pretend I do. But she had apparently been asking my uncle for quite some time to do something about those kitchen cupboards.

Nothing happened.

Eventually she got tired of waiting.

So one day, while my uncle was at work, she emptied the cupboards. She carefully packed everything away somewhere safe.

Then she picked up a sledgehammer.

And demolished the kitchen cabinets.

Quite literally.

There was no longer a discussion about whether the kitchen was getting renovated.

The kitchen was getting renovated.

Eventually Waiting Becomes a Decision

I’ve been thinking about that story because I am beginning to understand the feeling behind it.

There comes a point where waiting for somebody else to act becomes its own decision.

If I keep waiting, then I am effectively choosing to leave things exactly as they are.

That doesn’t mean the other person suddenly becomes right.

It doesn’t mean their failure to follow through suddenly becomes acceptable.

It simply means that eventually I have to decide whether I am going to continue waiting for somebody else to change the situation, or whether I am going to change whatever part of it I actually can.

I think I may have reached a little bit of that point last weekend.

I got on the tractor and started knocking down some old cages that had been sitting around.

I had waited.

I had talked about them.

I had expected other things to happen.

Eventually I stopped waiting.

I climbed onto the tractor and dealt with what I could deal with.

And looking back, maybe that wasn’t really about the cages.

Maybe it was about finally doing something.

The Sledgehammer Feeling

I understand my aunt a little better now.

Sometimes you reach a point where you want to pick up the metaphorical sledgehammer and say, “Fine. If nobody else is going to deal with this, I will.”

There is anger in that.

There is frustration in it.

But there can also be something useful hidden underneath it.

Agency.

The realization that I don’t necessarily have to sit there waiting forever.

Of course, there is an important difference between taking control and simply destroying things because you’re angry.

The lesson from my aunt’s kitchen isn’t really, “Grab a hammer and start smashing.”

The lesson is that eventually she stopped waiting for somebody else to solve a problem she had decided she could no longer live with.

Because I Am Tired of Watching People Stop Living

There is another part of this that is harder for me.

Some of my frustration isn’t really about chores.

It isn’t about whether something gets cleaned, moved, repaired or finished.

It is watching someone seemingly withdraw further and further from everyday life.

Sleeping enormous amounts of the day.

Getting up only to move between the bed, computer, bathroom and kitchen.

Doing very little physically.

Then becoming increasingly uncomfortable and increasingly unable to do things.

I can see the pattern.

I worry about where that pattern leads.

And there is a part of me that wants to shake somebody and say:

“Get up.”

“Move.”

“Do something.”

“Participate in your own life.”

We’ve had versions of that conversation before.

But here’s the difficult part.

I cannot make another adult choose to participate.

That’s the Boundary

This is where yesterday’s lesson comes right back around.

I can encourage someone.

I can ask.

I can explain what I see.

I can offer help.

I can tell somebody that I am worried about them.

But I cannot get out of bed for them.

I cannot make them take care of themselves.

I cannot make them contribute.

And I cannot spend every remaining bit of my own energy trying to manufacture motivation for another adult.

That’s the boundary I am beginning to see.

Because while I am waiting for everybody else to get moving, my own life is still moving forward.

Things around me still need attention.

Things still break.

Things still become overgrown.

Bills still arrive.

Work still needs doing.

And I still have my own problems that need my attention.

Maybe I Need to Keep Moving

So maybe there is something useful in that sledgehammer story after all.

Not destruction.

Decision.

Stop waiting indefinitely.

Look around.

Figure out what I can actually change.

Deal with that.

Then move on to the next thing.

The cages came down because I finally stopped waiting.

Maybe there are a few more cages in my life like that.

Things that have been sitting there because somebody said they would handle them.

Things I’ve been waiting for somebody else to start.

Things that have become permanent simply because nobody ever made a decision.

Maybe I need to start making those decisions.

Not recklessly.

Not angrily.

And certainly not by taking a literal sledgehammer to everything that annoys me.

But deliberately.

If I can safely deal with something myself, maybe I deal with it.

If I genuinely need help, I find someone who is actually willing and able to help.

If neither of those things is possible, then perhaps I have to decide whether the thing really needs doing at all.

What I don’t want to keep doing is waiting forever.

The Tool for Today

Maybe today’s Ledge tool is simply this:

Stop confusing waiting with progress.

Waiting can be reasonable for a while.

People deserve patience.

People struggle.

People have problems we don’t always understand.

But patience without limits eventually becomes paralysis.

And I don’t want my life sitting still because somebody else has decided theirs will.

I can care about somebody.

I can worry about somebody.

I can want better for somebody.

And I can still keep moving.

Maybe that’s where I am right now.

I don’t particularly like being here.

I would much rather people simply did the things they said they were going to do.

But I cannot build my life around that expectation anymore.

So perhaps the sledgehammer isn’t really a sledgehammer.

Maybe it’s simply the moment when you finally say:

I’m done waiting.

And then you start dealing with what is actually within your power to change.