I Know I Should Change This Immediately, but I’ll Just Think About It for a While.

“I Know I Should Change This Immediately, but I’ll Just Think About It for a While.”

Here we have the most difficult stumbling block. If you want to make changes in a group consisting of many Greens, good luck. If it’s a major change, you should consider whether it’s really worth the effort. If it’s urgent, you can forget the whole thing. This is what happens in the mind of a Green:

• I know what I have but not what I’ll get.

• It was better before.

• I’ve never done this before.

• The grass is not always greener on the other side.

Sound familiar? Sure, not all changes are for the better, but let’s be reasonable! I’m not saying that it’s always wrong to express these sentiments, but when changes are really necessary it can be very dangerous.

A classic cliché—a little worn now, I know—is to consider how often you change where you sit at the breakfast table. I used to ask this question in the groups I met. Many smiled and said that they sat where they usually sit because it just happened. Sure, I do the same thing sometimes. But if someone were to point out that I was stuck in a rigid habit (or bad habit) I would do something about it. A Green, however, doesn’t correct himself.

When you look at a Green’s reaction to the question, you’ll understand that we’re faced with a problem. I’ve seen adults become white in the face, wiping their foreheads at the mere thought of sitting on the other side of the table. I’ve even worked with a man, Sune, who had such a meticulous lunchtime routine that if he couldn’t follow it precisely the rest of the day was shrouded in sheer darkness. Sune had a favorite lunch spot beneath a painting. He sat there every day at lunchtime, week in, week out, month out and year in. Always the same chair.

If he came into the dining room and saw that his spot was occupied, he would stop short. If he saw this quickly enough, he’d turn towards his backup location, not as good but still an acceptable spot, near a window. If he were forced to have his soup there, he would glare throughout the meal at whoever had nicked “his” spot. Of course, he never said anything. Instead, he just sulked the rest of the day. This is another thing Greens often do—turn frustration inwards and feel awful so that everyone notices it. If Sune’s backup spot was also occupied, he would just go back into the kitchen, the rest of his day ruined.

Let me give you another example. My mother—departed but never forgotten; we’ll never stop loving you, our darling mother—who was nothing if not Green, was always willing to help and took care of her grandchildren whenever needed, especially when they were little. I remember one time when my wife and I were invited to dinner on a Friday night. I had asked my mother to watch the kids weeks in advance because I knew that she needed time to mentally prepare herself for it.

On the day the dinner was to take place, the hostess called: Her husband was sick, and the whole thing was postponed. When I phoned my mum, I explained to her what had happened. We would be staying home that night. She went completely silent. I said that I still wanted her to come over because the children were excited to see their grandma.

Mum was very hesitant. “What will happen now?” she asked.

I said that it would be just like we had planned originally. Because her bag was packed and the guest room was ready, it would be a perfect opportunity to spend a little time together. She hesitated. “It will be completely different now: You’re at home.” She was flustered by the change, and she needed time to think. She promised to phone back.

What was really Mum’s problem? Our change of plans necessitated no change for her at all. She was still going to stay overnight between Friday and Saturday. She could still see her grandchildren. She would, however, avoid having any responsibility for them. I tried to convince her that we could take care of her for once, instead of her taking care of us.

This was a completely new situation for her. We were still there in the house. And that was the problem. My wife and I would be there. Maybe Mum had her heart set on a watching a particular show on television. Maybe she had thought about preparing a special meal for the children. Maybe, I don’t know. She never said anything about it, so we can’t know for sure. But the change was serious enough to warrant extra thinking time for her.

(She came in the end. A nice little side story, quite possibly related to her generation: I fetched her at half past four. She asked why I came so late. I replied that I had promised to be there at five o’clock and that I was actually half an hour early. Her response? She’d been ready since four o’clock.)