Chutes and Ladders
My Sweet Dumb Brain had a beautiful essay unpacking an idea from Glennon Doyle’s book about life as a game of chutes and ladders, and how social media amplifies the squares we’re all on.
She was on a figurative high square moving towards the next milestone when her husband died suddenly, sending her down a chute that changed her relationship status, friendships, career, and adoption application. And then there were all the “ladders” that friends were posting on social media:
While I was coming to terms with the fact that my husband was dead, everyone else seemed to be living their best lives—and making sure the world knew about it … all of these posts made me feel woefully alone. While I had fallen down a never-ending chute, it seemed it was all ladders for everyone else I followed.
The point, she explains, is that “I usually focus on the chute part. I forget to look for the ladders.” Because it’s easy to feel the impact of a chute. Your stomach is plummeting. Your heart is in your throat. You are upset, and it blots out everything else. It is much harder to feel the elation of a ladder. We climb them, enjoying the fact that we’re going up while simultaneously looking for the next ladder. Climbs don’t have the same physical response.
Anyway, I love her essay. Give it a read.
2 comments
I wish I knew what it was about myself that makes me fairly impervious to the comparison/jealousy effects of social media. I’m usually glad for other people’s enjoyment: perhaps mildly envious of their trips or sights or whatever, but overall, generally happy for them. If I’m sad for myself that I’m not currently experiencing that particular joy, it doesn’t turn into some sort of referendum on my life choices or anything. If I could bottle this ability and sell it, I’d be making Bezos and Gates look poor.
(It probably helps that 1) I can easily identify the fake/performative/attention-seeking nonsense vs true experiences, because I don’t follow influencers or famous people and 2) I’m old enough to have learned that a lot of stuff is more trouble than it’s worth. Don’t get me wrong – social media does affect my emotional state, but as long as I avoid the comment section of news articles, I’m generally OK.)
Anyway, I probably have had more ladders (and maybe even an elevator or two!) in my life than chutes. But climbing can be just as difficult as falling. Maybe it seems easier to some because there’s a goal there somewhere, and not an unexpected drop. I’m not a goal-oriented person, so for me, it’s just continuing along the path – sometimes it’s steep and hard work to climb, other times it’s flat and you feel like you’re going nowhere, and other times it’s a gentle incline where you can enjoy the view. I guess I’m not a fan of this analogy, for various reasons, but mostly because you get to the end of the game and win by…dying? (I know, no analogy is perfect, but I am an extrapolator.)
This really touched me. I needed to hear this as I’m currently experiencing a lot of chutes…and needed the reminder to look for the ladders.