On Sunday, I got busy organising and optimising for a packed week. Between school runs, home maintenance disasters, travel and work, I knew I was in for a doozie and I was determined to get all my ducks in a row.
I went to the servo and filled up my tank, checked my tires and vacuumed the inside of my car (delaying the external wash for when the kids are with me, we like the disco excitement of rainbow wax.)
I planned a menu, ordered groceries and cooked a week's worth of meals once they arrived, complete with sides, lunch snacks and a spare for the freezer in case we had an unexpected guest.
I put a treatment in my hair, did a face mask and made sure the kids were bathed and showered. I caught up on washing. Booked out time in my calendar for key tasks and workshop prep. Made dinner reservations, checked netball times and got book orders ready to send out.
And by 11am Monday, my week turned to custard. The plumber arrived and gave me bad news, tearing down half of my ceiling in the process. The dog got sick and shat all through her crate, spreading the mess onto the newly clean kitchen floor when she got up for the day. The builder stayed longer than expected and I missed a meeting.
Despite all my effort, I still felt like I was losing the game. Optimising within an unwinnable system might give you the illusion of control, but when the odds are stacked against you, it's a bit like neatly stacking and spot-cleaning the deck chairs on the Titanic.
I told a potential client this last week, when they asked for some group leadership coaching. My response was pretty blunt - I told them I wasn't comfortable coming in to tell people how to be better, when the whole organisation was setting their team up for failure. If they want to invest in their people, it's not time with me they need: it's a better structure and systems for work, money and time that support the behaviour they want.
My unwinnable game is the "work/life balance." I'm a single parent and business owner, carrying the emotional, physical, mental labour and responsibility for 4 people in my head, while trying to serve the needs of hundreds of students. No matter how well I colour code my calendar, I'm playing a game that isn't designed for me to win.
There's lots of examples of this. Superhero inspirational speakers are one such discomfort for me. When we highlight the achievements of marginalised people who've succeeded against the odds (rags to riches, drug addict turned community leader, disabled person turned athlete, et al) and ask them to tell everyone else how to emulate their success, we're quietly sending a message that says: "See? It isn't that hard. Just try harder."
Female empowerment, as a genre, is another. When we engage in #girlboss white feminism and teach professional women how to negotiate better salaries or communicate with confidence, we're papering over the cracks in the system and putting the responsibility on individuals to play the game better - thus preserving the overall unfairness of the game.
I see this all the time inside workplaces, and sometimes I still play along. Sure, I can't change the whole system, but if I can help people to manage their time, communicate better with their bosses, that's better than nothing, right?
... I'm not so sure. At least half the time I run those workshops, I leave with a queasy feeling in my stomach, knowing that all those passionate, motivated people are fighting inside a system that isn't designed for them to win. They'll be tired, and the wheels will keep on turning.
It's why I hate hacking culture. Whether we're talking life hacks, time hacks, beauty hacks or anything else, we're asking people to optimise themselves and pay with their time, energy, money and health to prop up a lifestyle and economy that serves very few.
This isn't one of those Wednesday Wisdoms that has answers in it, where I've found a solution to hand you on a silver platter. ("Playing an unwinnable game? Make it winnable in three easy steps!). It's one where I say: you know what? It's probably not you. If you're trying really hard, doing everything you can, and you're still worn down... it could be the game that's broken.
Short of some kind of anti-capitalist revolution, I'm not sure we can band together to sort it out either (sorry, team.) But we can stop blaming ourselves for not being better, smarter, nicer, fitter, more organised, more attractive or more motivated. We can stop looking at other people's lives with envy and making false assumptions about their superiority because honestly, they're struggling too. They're trying to hack the game from the inside, by being really good at complying, but they're not winning either.
The only real thing we can do is dig a bit deeper when our stuff is hard. Ask questions, like "why is this so hard?" "who is this serving?" "who are these rules designed for?" Then, see if you can leave it better than you found it for the next people who come along.
If navigating maternity leave provisions drove you batty, fix it for the next babe. If you sigh with relief when you're promoted out of an impossible job, change the JD for the next person. And if you can't do any of that, share your frustration with the people around you so that they know you see them, and you're in it together.
Some games can't be won, and the rules need changing. Maybe it's time we stopped trying to optimise ourselves and started tearing down the structures that keep us trapped instead.
Til next week,
A