Is an inciting incident keeping you stuck?
by Sheri McGregor, M.A.
Sometimes, a single incident can wield such a strong blow that the course of our life is changed. Fiction writers call this an “inciting incident.” In a satisfying story, the hero/ine heeds the “call to action” (another writerly term), and the story unfolds to a satisfying end. S/he saves a town, rescues someone in distress, and preserves what’s right and good.
Our real-life stories can be more complex. There isn’t always a town, an innocent victim, or something like a democracy to save. And when hit with an “inciting incident,” we might not rationally consider our response. Even when we’re moved to act, grow stronger, and benefit from inciting incidents, what works in the immediate sometimes burdens us later. Our history can catch up with us. Old calls to action may no longer be relevant. Yet we’re stuck in the same old pattern. Only now, it’s hurting us.
A man and his stuff
Bob, who is 72, has a garage and two sheds full of cycles, old cars, and stuff. Tools and equipment are stored on the back deck and strewn about the cement alongside the house. In the last year, Bob’s physical health has suffered. He and his wife, Sue, plan to move to a smaller place. They need to clear out and downsize, but the task is daunting—and Bob is feeling angry at letting go of his possessions.
“He’s always been handy,” says Sue. “But he’s not fixing cars or remodeling the house anymore. And I’m hopping over and around piles just to turn on a water hose or do the laundry. At our age, this is foolhardy and dangerous.”
I encouraged Bob to tell me about his life. At one point, his speech grew faster and louder. He described returning home from college to find his motorcycle, collector coins, and other items gone. “My mother said the cycle was stolen, but she gave everything else away.” Bob’s younger sibling had taken over his bedroom, his surfboard, and even his coin collection. Bingo! No wonder Bob hung on to so much.
Worried mother
Sixty-two-year-old JoAnne worries incessantly about her semi-estranged 37-year-old son who holds a doctorate and makes a great living as the head of a major organization. “He’s responsible in his work, but he makes bad decisions in his personal life,” says JoAnne, who goes on to talk about her son’s loose spending habits that include foreign travel, luxury cars, and fly-by-night girlfriends. “I’m always after him to be more careful,” she says.
As we talked, JoAnne explained that, in his senior year of high school, her son was involved in a car accident. She sighed as she spoke. “His girlfriend was driving, and she was drunk.” JoAnne spent 16 days and nights at his hospital bedside. She homeschooled him the remainder of the school year and drove him to twice-weekly physical therapy appointments for ten months. “That accident could have been life-changing,” she said. “I’m always thinking he’ll get hurt again.”
Bingo! JoAnne’s fear was driving her worry—and possibly driving her son away.
Subtle effects
When I asked Bob if he thought coming home from college to find his belongings gone might have something to do with why he keeps so much, he shrugged. Then, with a small smile, he said, “Makes sense.”
It does make sense. The things we hold onto often have layers of emotion that existed before acquiring the stuff. Having made the connection, Bob said his wife was right. “We do need to clear out for our safety; and it’ll make it easier to sell this place when the time comes.” Sue’s response was a strong, “Hallelujah! He has seen the light!”
Three months later, they’ve arranged for the classic cars to go to auction, and Bob has sold his cycles to local buyers. The bulk of the tools and equipment will take time to sort through, but Bob is steadily making progress. He doesn’t want to leave Sue with a mess, and if they can move to a place with less upkeep, Bob figures he won’t constantly be reminded of the physical limitations caused by his declining health.
JoAnne’s inciting incident was her son’s serious car accident. With her help, he fully recovered. The accident wasn’t life-changing for him. JoAnne, though, has continued to suffer.
In the short term, her son needed her heroic efforts. But over time, her incessant worry has created discord. At 37, he tells her outright that she needs to let him live his life. The reality is that that as long as JoAnne remains preoccupied with rescuing him, she remains distressed and mired in fear.
JoAnne hadn’t previously connected her teenaged son’s drunk girlfriend of the past with the women he currently dates. She wondered aloud, “Maybe me always being after him triggers an adolescent rebellion response.” Thinking in those terms helped motivate JoAnne. Once she connected the dots, she decided to make more of an effort to tend to her own life. The truth is, she’d grown weary of making her life all about him. Admitting that, she planned to quietly step back. She would tell him how the accident has shaped her thinking, and then call him less, stop reminding him to take care of taxes, bills, and home maintenance.
JoAnne asked, “Do you think me telling him that will make him see he’s hooking up with the same old teen drunk?” When I didn’t answer, she corrected herself. “Guess that’s his decision.” Then she laughed. “What will I do with all my extra time?” JoAnne might now have time for a luxury vacation of her own.
It’s also important to point out that, at times, an inciting incident we weren’t able to do something about negatively influences us. For example, if JoAnne hadn’t been able to be there for her son after his accident, she may have felt guilt. The emotion may have triggered similar worry and caused her to decide she’d be there for him no matter what in the future. Letting go of what sometimes amounts to a vow can be difficult (but it’s possible and, frequently, for the best).
Connecting the dots
Many of us experience stuck points and problem areas that don’t seem to make sense. Whether we’re worrying about another adult, clogging our homes with material items, or some other concern, examining our history for possible inciting incidents can help. Our lives change as we live them. In some ways, our priorities must also shift.
Ask yourself:
–What dots can I connect from my past that tie into a current problem?
–Even in areas where there is no obvious problem, what can I prioritize less?
–What might I shift or change in order to live more fully, take a step toward something different, or let go of strife?
With a little reflection, humility, and self-compassion, we can uncover new insights about long-ago events, heed a new call to action, and be the hero in our own fulfilling lives.
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