The Power of the Pivot
Ways to find a new "mountain" when ours is shrinking
I was 31. It was a cold, short November day in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was at a digital media training event with Deseret Digital Media. They were very clear with their trainees in this program; most of us were from the smaller market print media industry, and print was a dying business. The powerpoint on the big screen showed a man standing on a mountain that was melting away. That was the print newspaper industry, they said. Find a new mountain, they told us. The new mountain they had found was digital media. They had plans, formulas, and strategies on how to make the switch. They were there, ready to help. We all stared at the screen. We all nodded. No one denied the truth of this picture. I'll never forget that moment.
Ten years later, the company that sent me to this training doesn't exist anymore. It didn't get off that mountain. It died on it. Even though we all saw it coming and knew what needed to be done, we failed to do it. It was a company made up of the best people I've worked with, many of whom are still my friends. It wasn't for lack of heart, or soul, or knowing. Why, then, could we not let go? Why couldn't we change?
There could be whole dissertations written on the fate of the first company I worked for and spent nine years of my life with, but this exercise is not to overly analyze their decline. Rather, let's use it as a mirror in our own lives and work.
In an effort to begin an important conversation with you about the work of pivoting (changing plans, changing direction, changing in general) our ranch or farm enterprises, I've identified three themes I've witnessed in my work and life that proved to be barriers to change.
Why we don't change plans
Sunk-cost bias: My colleague at the Savory Institute, Bobby Gill, introduced me to this concept. It gets me almost every time. It refers to the mental state of attachment to staying on track with a plan because you have invested so much in that plan already. Thinking of this concept, I remember the pain of canceling the Savory Network Reunion planned for March 2020 in Australia. My friend who had led the planning spent countless hours organizing and preparing for the event. This is no small feat, especially considering she was working on an international gathering to be held in one country while planning it from another. She had packed her suitcase twice. She had already gone to the bank and gotten Australian dollars. She was invested. Right before the world shut down due to the global pandemic, we canceled the event. Given how hard we had worked, it was a really tough decision. She still doesn't like to talk about that event that almost was but never will be. But, wow, in hindsight, am I glad we had the courage to make that decision. Had we gone, I could have spent two extra years in Australia.
Attachment to the existing plan: My ability to form deep attachments serves me well as a parent and in relationships. It is not so helpful in being willing to pivot. Once I can see something clearly in my mind and love it, love what it will create, I am all in. I am disciplined, focused, and determined. I find enduring energy to achieve it. This has served me well in some aspects of work but not in others. I am still figuring out how to stop and unwind the bonds formed with an idea, a plan, a goal, and a way of doing things when it needs to end, or adjust to the new reality. I meditate on this daily. May all beings remain in the great equanimity which is without attachment and aversion, is an excerpt from my daily meditation. And yet, it is still a work in progress. Old habits die hard, especially when they are reinforced in our culture and society. Especially when we work on land, with the seasons, and learn the practices of our work from our family, as is the case with many land stewards, it is easy to form attachments to one way of doing things.
Our identity is in our work: I see this so much with people of my generation and older but not as much with younger generations. I grew up in a ranching and logging community. This may sound like a bumper sticker, but these occupations were more than just a way to earn a paycheck; they were a whole culture and way of life. I say "were'' because, especially with logging, it is no longer a major part of the local economy of my hometown in Northern California. Its extinction is the stark reality of change resistance. In those moments we find ourselves asking if we change , then who are we? Who am I?
What can make us more flexible?
Stepping back and reflecting: when I get wound tight around a certain way of doing things, a plan, it helps me to go on a run, a hike, or a walk. What is it about being in nature, especially with animals, that helps our mind and perspective relax? I sit with and simply read through my holistic context. I remember that actions are not values and that they should always be scrutinized to see if they are leading us toward our desired quality of life.
Remembering resilient moments: Some of my happiest moments were completely unplanned. Realizing this was such a surprise to the planner in me. The days and weeks after my divorce were quite unstructured, as I had lost every material thing that gave me structure. To my utter amazement, my daughter fondly remembers those days as so fun because we were completely present with each other. We explored, we were spontaneous, we created something new. After things end, we make a change, there is a freedom and awe that comes with realizing that we are more than our plans, our structures, our work.
Cultivate a sense of humor: I learned this from my Gidutikad Band of the Northern Paiute friends and neighbors in Fort Bidwell. I took life way too seriously before we met. I remember that feeling of awe and empowerment when something I thought was quite stress-out worthy, made my Native friends laugh based on the sense of humor that is part of their culture and worldview. And we laughed together, and it felt really good. And then it became a joke that we laughed about many times after that.
What practices have you learned to become more flexible, and willing to pivot? Made significant changes to your farm or ranch enterprises, as the Casad family did?
In celebration of the mystery of life and all the pivots we’ve made to get us to this point of connection with one another, I look forward to our continued conversation.
-Abbey