The Broken Shoelace

On Avoiding FREAK OUTs

All last week, I kept thinking about The Broken Shoelace. Then, a speaker talked about it at my home group meeting. Isn’t it funny how that works? How when you start looking for a car to buy, like a white VW, you suddenly notice a ton of white VWs on the road? 

What’s the Broken Shoelace? The Broken Shoelace is a concept I learned about in recovery. The basic idea is we can handle the major catastrophes, like visits to the ER or a kitchen fire. We immediately switch into problem-solving mode and address the situation calmly. Kudos to us!

But then our shoelace breaks, and …

OH MY GOD, WE ARE COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT, and anyone unlucky enough to be within range gets an earful, and our shoelace breaking is THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO US!

It’s not the straw that broke the camel’s back; it’s more like, after you’ve brought the camel to the veterinarian and his hump has been set in a cast, on the drive home from the vet, a person pulls out in front of you, forcing you to tap on your brakes for like two seconds, and WTF IS THAT DUDE DOING? HOW DARE HE DO THAT TO YOU! Having to tap on your brakes for two seconds is the worst thing that has ever happened to you. A complete meltdown ensues after a minor irritation, and your poor camel is like, “Please just take me home. My hump hurts.”   

I was thinking about the Broken Shoelace because I had been trying all week to prevent it from happening. 

For the past couple of years, I’ve hosted Thanksgiving dinner for about 20 people. The key to a successful Thanksgiving, I told myself smugly during my 7th trip to the grocery store, is to be prepared. I made sure all my kitchen necessities were backed up: the dish soap, the trash bags, the Sodastream carbonator. Trying to think ahead, I pulled out my serving dishes and spoons. I wanted to ensure we had everything needed to make Thanksgiving dinner run smoothly. 

But at some point during my 12th trip to the grocery store, alarm bells started to go off. Not literal alarm bells in the store, although if that did happen, I’m sure I would have dealt with it calmly. But alarm bells in my head. I realized I was trying to control how Thanksgiving would go. With each Post-it note I put on the refrigerator, I could feel my grip on the Thanksgiving dinner tighten like the belt around my pants at the end of dinner. I was reminded of the old adage, “We plan, God laughs.”  

In early sobriety, when discussing a fight I had with my husband, I said to my sponsor through tears, “The thing is, I’m trying, I’m really trying,” —the “trying” sounding like the whine of Veruca Salt. In response, she scowled and held up her hand, indicating I should stop talking. 

I can try all I want, but I cannot make the ocean waves stop crashing. Certain things, actually most things, are out of my control. So, I should stop trying to control them.

This is the part of the post where you think I’m going to tell you my Broken Shoelace moment. Like the cranberry sauce spilled on the white tablecloth, and I FREAKED OUT!

But actually, I had no such meltdown this year. In past years, I may have FREAKED OUT at people milling about the kitchen during that crucial 15 minutes before dinner when you are trying to heat everything up in your tiny oven.  

“If you are not essential to the cooking, GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN,” I yelled. The architect who designed the open-concept kitchen never had a ham fall on the floor that they hoped to put back on the plate without anyone noticing. My next house will NOT be open concept.    

But that didn’t happen this year. First of all, people stayed out of my kitchen, I think, because they were skittish from last year’s freakout. But in general, my whole Thanksgiving event went by without a major catastrophe or a minor Broken Shoelace moment. 

Why? I don’t think it was because I was prepared. I think it was more because I felt myself trying to control the situation beforehand and checked myself. I pictured my sponsor’s hand going "STOP" like she was a Supreme. Sure, I could be prepared. There is nothing wrong with making sure the gravy boat is clean. But I couldn’t control the Thanksgiving with my preparedness. And by keeping my expectations in check, I didn’t have a Broken Shoelace moment. I let go of the results. 

For more tips on getting through the holidays, check out my post, Surviving the Season with Grace and Dignity.

Have you had a Broken Shoelace moment? Please share in the comments!