Stuck: Learning from "The Rut"

Stuck.

Maybe this word resonates with you.

Maybe this is an accurate depiction of nearly the last twelve months. Chances are in some way, shape or form; this word had been synonymous with your reality. It could be in a very physical sense, if you’ve found yourself quarantined for any length of time, or if your job has evolved, and forced you to work from home. The simple routine you once had has become a dim memory of the past. (Honestly—do you remember the last pre-COVID thing you did?) You might wrestle with the restrictions of governmental authorities, limiting or preventing you from a lifestyle that you equated to be “normal,” or you may be existing with a constant trepidation of illness or virus. So you voluntarily find yourself ordering your groceries online, using ungodly amounts of hand sanitizer and limiting as much human contact as you can.

If you’re like me, you’re probably sick of web video calls, desperately starved for human touch and connection, and have found yourself consuming greater amounts of electronic media than you ever have before.

Maybe the current world has forced you out of a job, and you’re trapped in financial ruin, where you wonder how much longer you can stay afloat before rent comes due, or your pantry and fridge go empty. The fears of this time are undeniably real.

Maybe you have been directly hurt from the pandemic, and you find yourself fighting for respiratory healing, or hanging on for life.

Stuck.

No matter how hard you seem to try to move forward, you go nowhere.

Stuck in the Rut.

Stuck with the mental battle of not knowing how long we must face this; with no certain end in sight.

Earlier this year, when I found myself working a meaningless job for a home improvement store, “The Rut” was so apparent. As just a cog in the capitalist machine, nothing I did seemed to matter, and it stripped my soul and individuality to a number that would soon be forgotten amongst the countless turnover of employees. I worked some miserable hours under apathetic bosses, and engaged with some rude customers who should have just paid a professional to complete their home remodel. It wasn’t my favorite few months.

On my drive home one day from work on a long stretch of road, I drove past a man who was walking his motorcycle next to him going the opposite direction towards town—he had ran out of gas. Knowing that the next gas station was at least four miles away, and it was a pretty hot humid Michigan summer day, I drove until I could find a good place to flip a U-turn and head his direction. I was planning to help him load his motorcycle in the bed of my truck, and I’d take him to the gas station. I was tired…having worked a shift starting at 4:30 that morning, but I knew it was the “right” thing to do.

I knew if I was in his spot, that I would hope someone would do the same thing for me.

After I spun around and drove back in his direction, I found that another gentleman in a pickup was already planning to do the same thing. I pulled off to the side of the road to help the two individuals load and strap down the bike to the truck. After a ‘thank you’ and a wave, the two strangers were on their way and quickly out of sight. I traipsed back to my vehicle with a sense of beaming fulfillment in me, glad that I had done a ‘random act of kindness’ for a stranger.

Then the heavy reality of my mortal mistake had set in. When I pulled to the side of the embanked road to avoid traffic from behind, I had pulled too far to the side, and had the passenger side of my vehicle slanted, and on a sandbar. You might know where this is going.

Coming from Colorado, I have spent my fair share of time getting all kinds of motorized vehicles unstuck from snow and icy terrain. There are a ton of tricks I know with straps, floormats, chains, kitty litter and wooden boards, but none of these methods was a match for the beast that is silt refined sand. Every time I spun my tires, I only found myself getting buried deeper as my truck slanted further and further towards the ditch. Eventually, my rear bumper was almost level with the ground.

I was stuck.

A couple hundred cars went by, and a couple people stopped thinking I needed help changing a tire—but left and continued on their way saying that they wouldn’t help me because I was too far gone. The resources they had available were not sufficient for the rut I had dug myself into.

I swore in my head, (and probably out loud) out of frustration; knowing that if I hadn’t stopped to help, that I wouldn’t be in the position. (That’s what I get for being a nice guy—I thought.) Knowing I was still around ten miles from my home, I knew walking wasn’t going to be an option as the July sun was beating down.

Eventually a man named Norm in a company work truck pulled over and asked if I would like some help. The male reptilian ego part of my brain wanted to say ‘no,’ but my human need and helplessness said “Yes.” After chaining up a tow line, and slamming my throttle as he tugged me out slowly, I was free. I thanked him with a handshake and he was on his way. We’ve yet to cross roads again.

The irony that after stopping on the side of the road to help someone in need, I would need someone to stop on the side of the road and help me in my need is just comical. Yet after some time, lessons began to emerge.

1. You typically can’t get out of a rut by yourself.

After exhausting all the resources and tricks I’d learned previously, I recognized that it wasn’t feasible for me to get out on my own. Any time I spun the tires, I only seemed to get more buried.

2. The person helping you out of the rut, can’t also be stuck in the rut.

The kind stranger Norm had one advantage over me; he was still on the asphalt and had traction. It wasn’t that he had anything more, but he had forward motion, and wasn’t just spinning circles. Someone who is trapped in the same situation as you can’t help you out of that situation.

3. You aren’t stuck permanently.

In the moment, it was easy to believe that the world is going to end when a situation goes awry, or we feel stuck in a job, a relationship or a tough circumstance. It’s hard to see beyond the present, when the present is all we know.

So what is the rut you feel stuck in right now?

What is that unproductive habit you find yourself repeatedly slipping into that is so hard to change?

What stretch of road do you find so much anguish traveling on because of the uneven and uncharted terrain?

A year like 2020 has forced changes upon and within us all. It might feel like you’re going nowhere regardless of the effort you put forwards. The rut you may be in might feel insurmountable—but I can assure you, you’ll get out of it eventually.

What if during this time, we embrace a mentality and headspace, that we aren’t simply being buried in the rut, but rather that we’re actually being planted.

That on the other side of this moment in time, that there’s a harvest waiting.

Show kindness to strangers; everyone has a trench that they’re struggling to get out of.

Have you ever considered that you might have what they need to be freed?