Old Patterns, New Software

Lately, I've dabbled in the podcast world to break up the monotony of my playlist. I love a good self-help podcast, and 9.5 times out of 10, I walk away feeling a bit more enlightened.

Many of you are true podcast aficionados; regularly sharing your favorites with me: murder mysteries, wild reality shows, you name it. I get it. Sometimes, diving into someone else's chaotic world is the perfect escape from our own.

Speaking of chaos, this past week has been a bit…stressful. The kids were home, and while I adore them, the shift from their physical needs as little ones to their emotional and mental needs as they’ve grown older is no joke. Throw in a particularly stressful work week, a few unexpected doctor’s appointments, and my wife’s recent call-back from a routine mammogram, and you’ve got the recipe for a perfect storm.

Amid all this, I noticed something about myself. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not new, but it’s just a first for me NOTICING it: I start to get distant, distracted, and short-tempered when I’m stressed. I want to retreat, and if someone could take care of all the household, kid, and pet duties, that’d be great. Not my best self, I know.

Then, I listened to a recent episode of the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast, where someone shared how they keep falling into old patterns they don’t like. Glennon’s response? She nailed it. She talked about how these autopilot behaviors are often old patterns—habits so ingrained that we do them without thinking, like driving a familiar route and suddenly realizing you’ve arrived without remembering the trip.

When we’re doing a new thing, we don’t do that.

Glennon then goes on to equate it to like the SOFTWARE of our brain. The place that holds all the code to how we think, respond, feel joy, feel fear, and everything in between. So essentially, there is old code in the software that now we see has a bug in it, but we haven’t done the work to update that code yet. When we fall back on these old patterns, it’s like running outdated software in our brains. We know better, but we haven’t updated the code. And just like a computer with a bug, our old software sends us the wrong messages when we’re stressed: “Disassociate. Push people away. Be short-tempered.” We see what comes out of the printer - the output (our actions) - and want to change it, but without updating the software, we’re stuck in a loop. I can try and take a pen and change what came out of the printer with an “I’m sorry” to everyone later in the day, but this doesn’t actually help me in NOT responding like this the very next day.

That’s the moment:  the moment you realize that this is an old belief or an old pattern that you could change.

Recognizing these behaviors is a sign of growth. We’re not fully running on the old software anymore; we’re in that awkward in-between phase. The ole’ MIDDLE. The discomfort we feel when we notice these old patterns is proof that we’re growing, but growth requires active participation. I can’t be a passive participant in it – I must be active or I will find myself continually repeating the old habits and then Coming To when it’s over. This is the perpetual, “I’m sorry.” 

Glennon emphasized that in moments of discomfort, we have a choice: stay present and try out the new programming or retreat and let the old software take over. For me, this means acknowledging my behavior IN the moment (if I’m able to recognize it..or I can ask my family to HELP me recognize it), not after the fact. The change is subtle in this example, “I think I’m being short with you because I’m anxious about Kerry’s broken hand. Let me take a step back and try that interaction again.” Vs the damaging words or actions followed by the “I’m sorry…”

So, do you have any old software that needs updating? A jealousy? An insecurity? A response to triggering people? A mindset you’re not proud of? Acknowledging it is the first step, and being in the middle of that process is a beautiful place to be.