Use the difficulty
A few months ago, I watched an old interview with Michael Caine and he spoke of an incident early in his career where he told his director of his play that he couldn’t make his entrance on the stage because there was a chair in his way. In a bit of exasperation, the director told him to “use the difficulty!”
Of course, the director was speaking specifically about the chair in the way, but Michael Caine decided his statement had a broader application—a lesson for his life.
Use the difficulty.
The advice is sound and universal. Everyone has a life that is speckled with difficulty. The question is are you letting the hard things stop you from moving forward, or are you using those things to become better?
The first day of Christmas break, my girls took their little brother to the batting cages. He was hitting well, and in true older sibling fashion, they wanted to push him to do more. So they upped the speed of the pitching machine and dropped the ball in. Unfortunately, the ball hit Tucker on the back of his hand.
It was broken.
Tucker came home from Brian’s office that day with a brace on his right hand, and a lot of frustration. Winter basketball was starting in just a few weeks, and it seemed like all his practicing was over.
Use the difficulty.
I explained the phrase to Tucker and told him he should keep working with his left hand. Dribble lefthanded. Shoot baskets not only on the left side, but using one arm. Honestly, he was less than thrilled. He told me all the reasons why he wouldn’t be able to do it. I persisted. Eventually, he tried.
Sadly, Tucker is NOT ambidextrous. His left hand is about as useful as mine—and that’s not much. Shooting the basketball was almost comical (at least to me). Shots were all over the place, and seldomly made. His dribbling was better, but still hard. He was not loving this experiment. I would love to say he practiced daily on his left side and never missed the entire break, but I cannot. He did do it a few times though, which is better than nothing. And even in those few practices, his left-sided skills improved.
Using the difficulty is really hard to do in practice. Your personal difficulties come in all shapes and sizes. They may be family relationships, friends, work, health issues, mental health struggles, school, physical limitations, or a million other things. Using the difficulty can be frustrating, especially when you don’t know how to do it.
I don’t know how to do it either! No one does. There is not one way to use the difficulty correctly—that idea is ridiculous. Maybe a new health diagnosis is there so you can learn patience, or humility, or empathy. Maybe you need to try counseling or therapy to help with your mental health. Maybe you can use a tumultuous relationship with your spouse to practice long-suffering and kindness. And maybe you can use another job loss to practice gratitude for everything good in your life. I could go on and on. You get the idea.
It IS easier to sit back and sulk, or blame your genetics, circumstances, or others (For Tucker-his older sisters) for your bad luck. If you find youself doing this, just pause and simply ask if this is helpful? In my opinion, it is not. So stop.
Use the difficulty.
Let your kids have difficulty, and teach them to use it.
Contrary to what is popular at the moment, hard things are not the problem; they are actually the solution. Difficulties create opportunites for growth…
…but only if you use them.