You know the scene – it’s TV’s Friends, circa 1999, “The One With the Cop.” Ross is on a mission to move a couch up his apartment stairwell, with Rachel and Chandler in tow. He leads the charge, screaming “PIVOT! PIVOT!” as they desperately try to get around the landing. It’s iconic, relatable, and gave the term “pivot” a special place in history.
Lately, I have discovered the power of this word. It might even be my word of the year. When life throws me a curveball, I am learning, slowly but surely, and with great difficulty, how to pivot.
I’m in class, and can see my student’s eyes glaze over as my words fall flat on the floor – PIVOT.
My dad calls, telling me about a voicemail he got from my mother, who died in 2023 – PIVOT.
It’s the holidays, and everything is different – where we gather, who we gather with, and how it feels to set the table the way my mother would have approved. PIVOT.
The day after Christmas, my little tribe of four went to our favorite beach, a place only accessible by boat. While there, my husband and I decided to go to the mainland for our 28th anniversary dinner. So, we booked the 3:45 ferry.
3:10ish – head to the dock, but realize we left our car keys behind
3:20ish – race back, get the keys, make it to the dock
3:35:ish – arrive at the dock, but they only honor your reservation if you are there 15 minutes in advance
3:40ish – we go to the end of the general boarding line, about a block long. Our hearts sink as they count off the lucky souls who make it on board – 141, 142, 143…finally, a crusty old sailor with zero tolerance for tourists picks up the thick, yellow chain, and *clink* we miss the boat.
The next boat is 1.5 hours away. We will lose our reservation. Our romantic plans go out with the tide. PIVOT.
My husband tries to talk with Crusty, who mumbles with a bottom lip full of tobacco, “I just work for the boat.” I angrily call the main office, whose representative has been berated all day and doesn’t feel a bit sorry for me, although I finally reason with her and get an apology and a happy anniversary. There are two couples behind us in their 70s who aren’t thrilled about their prospects either. And then…from the other side of the dock…with the sun shining around her like an enchanted mermaid, emerges Melissa from the Spa. She declares, in a voice that twinkles with diamonds, “I’ve got a guy. He’s on his way. He can take us.” PIVOT.
Within minutes, my anger, hopelessness, and disappointment turn into relief, as Melissa and I connect over the island gossip, and my husband chats it up with the other couples. We hear the welcome whir of the towboat’s engine as hero #2, Captain Evan, appears with his 5-year-old first mate fast asleep inside the vessel. With a giddy camaraderie over this unexpected adventure, we cram into the 8 ft by 4 ft cabin, Captain Evan’s son hops in his dad’s lap, and away we go.
What joy to arrive on the other side, with the demon ferry still idling at the port. What smugness to hop out, pay Captain Evan, and victoriously march to our cars – the enemy did not win this day.
My husband and I made it to the restaurant and reveled in our ability to roll with the punches over these last 28 years. When we got back to the ferry for the ride home, Crusty was there, with a flicker of recognition and surprise in his eyes.
Make no mistake though, it’s no easy feat to pivot. If you do it enough, chances are you could short-circuit. There are only so many coping skills in one’s arsenal to face the big and little problems we encounter every day. Recovery time is essential after getting walloped by an unforeseen wave. That may look like getting help for grief over a loss, spending time in complete rest, or writing a blog post about it all. One thing I do know, things can go wrong, but you can still be ok.
Ross didn’t get the couch in his house. Rachel accidentally pulled the fire alarm and it was destroyed by the neighbors’ escape. Sometimes the pivot doesn’t work. But you’ve still got to try.
Happy New Year. You’ve got this.
