The Magpie and the Mole, Part 2

Mind if I join you for a while? You’re looking lovely today.

Post 2 in my series Metaphors That Matter: Insights into Life’s Challenges

Last week’s Part 1 post dealt mostly with helping the Magpie understand that by backing off of her (or, occasionally, his) efforts to entice the Mole out of his (or, occasionally, her) hole, that creates more space for the Mole to emerge voluntarily. It’s a practical application of the dictum “nature abhors a vacuum”. The Magpie can never have as much of the Mole’s attention as she wants, but she can have either less by doing more or more by doing less. She has to make an unselfish choice for his highest good, regardless of whether or not she gets what she wants. That’s true, sacrificial love. That’s a flourishing marriage.

But, then, the Mole is called to the same love.

Lesson 1: Ships are safest in the harbor, but that’s not what they’re designed for.

The Mole is a ship in the harbor (I know I’m mixing metaphors here, but stay with me). The dock is secure, and the water is calm. All is peaceful and at rest. But he’s built to use the harbor as his base of preparation for adventure into the open seas and as a refuge for recovery when the adventure is over. His unselfish choice for the Magpie’s greatest good is demonstrated by coming out of his hole—reluctantly perhaps at first, but unbidden—to serve her. He must learn not to use his Mole-ness as an excuse to remain buried in selfish, solo pursuits. And as he spends more time on the surface world, he will begin to find unexpected joy in unimaginable ways. Sure, the Mole’s innate joy still resides in his hole, but his efforts to serve his Magpie will become easier as the joy of doing so increases.

Lesson 2: Two steps forward and one back is better than no steps forward.

As you can imagine, this process of learning to express sacrificial love in word and deed to your opposite is anything but smooth. It is fraught with false starts, misunderstandings, one-sided efforts, unrecognized sacrifices, false attribution of motives, and so much more. But the most devastating of all is self-sabotage. This has many causes. Here are six.

First, if one party, through various adverse life circumstances, has come to believe that they’re not worthy of long-term happiness, they will make sure they don’t get it. A wise person cautioned, if you argue for your limitations you get to keep them. Forward motion will be hampered until this is dealt with.

Second, one or both may indulge in the fantasy that change is linear. It’s not. It’s messy. It looks more like a corn maze.

Third, one or both may want the pain to stop simply by means of prayer or wishful thinking with little effort. In one sense, life is a do-it-to-yourself project. You get out of it what you put into it. Coasting is not an option since progress is uphill.

Fourth, we all love predictability. In relationships like a marriage or family, we soon learn how to work the system to get what we want. This can be as benign as waiting for someone to be in a good mood before asking for a favor. No harm, no foul. But if we use selfish methods that hurt the system in the process of seeking our gain, we cause dysfunction and pain. Far too many relationships settle for the pain in the name of predictability. They may say they want change, but the fear of the unpredictability it brings can undermine growth.

Fifth, as a corollary to number four above, some people become uncomfortable when another person who has been trapped with them in their discontent begins to change and succeed in life, and rather than joining them, they try to pull them back down to their level. To illustrate this, I’ve been told that the easiest way to keep a crab in an open basket is to throw in another crab. Neither is where it wants to be, but as soon as one starts to climb out, the other will pull it back. Apparently, even crabs seem to find comfort in shared misery. The moral virtually writes itself, but I’ll say it anyway. Don’t be a crab!

And sixth, change brings new responsibilities. It’s common to say that people who are reluctant to assume those responsibilities are afraid of failure, so they don’t even try. I think perhaps they’re actually afraid of success, since that requires maintaining their responsibilities for the long haul.

Lesson 3: The single most important factor in making change stick is hope.

As I’ve said, a marriage of opposites is difficult, but it doesn’t have to be bad. Hopelessness turns difficult into bad. When you consider how much work it takes for opposites like a Magpie and a Mole to not just make peace, but thrive, it may seem like there’s no point in trying. But that’s a lie. The truth is, a difficult marriage needs the catalyst of hope added to persistent effort to make it flourish. And hope is contagious. Just one difficult-but-flourishing marriage can breed hope in others in similar circumstances.

And a brief postscript

You may wonder if both Magpies and Moles correspond to extroverts and introverts, respectively. It is more likely the case with Magpies being extroverts. They crave companionship and shared experiences. But Moles are not necessarily introverts. They may all seem like it, and many certainly are. But some may simply be more particular about whom they choose to befriend. While a Magpie is typically more of a social generalist, some Moles may be specialists, limiting their interaction to even only one or two select people. They are energized in the same way as Magpies but on a far more limited scale. So we must be careful not to make assumptions based on stereotypes when counseling opposites.