Muddling Through the Messy Middle

At a gathering several weeks ago, we were asked to come up with three words to describe our past, current, and future professional lives. I somewhat reluctantly played along and the first word that popped into my head to describe the arc of my life so far was “muddling.”

The word was met with confusion. Describing one’s life trajectory as a process of muddling probably seemed a bit sad to the ears of people who had chosen words like “performance.” But I went on to explain that I meant muddling in the best sense of the word. Not the kind of aimless muddling along that comes from disorganization or lack of skill, but the kind of muddling that the economist Charles Lindblom meant when he coined the term “muddling through” back in 1959 to describe an incremental approach to problem solving that relies on experience, intuition, and opportunity rather than on a rigid plan.

The muddling I was thinking about has nothing to do with a failure of vision, planning, or skill. Rather, it is a way to keep moving – in one’s career, life, or even with a painting that is not yet what it could be – when the path forward or even the goal itself is not clear.

The art of muddling through

Anyone who has stood in front of a half-finished work of art — or a half-finished life — knows that getting from where you are to where you want to be is rarely straightforward.

But even as we acknowledge this truth, we rail against it. We love a definite answer. We crave clear direction unsullied by nagging doubt. And we would rather get where we are going in one big leap than in many small steps.

And yet more often than not, the route between where you are and where you want to end up is not only circuitous, but there is no clear path at all. What you are up against instead is the murky and ever-shifting terrain of a complex and uncertain world. A giant leap into this unknown is just as likely to trap you in a crevasse as to land you on the hill of success.

Here’s where muddling comes in by offering a less dramatic yet much more manageable alternative to big leaps. A mindset of muddling through acknowledges our complex reality, honors the power of small incremental steps, and attunes us to opportunities for mid-course corrections. When we relieve ourselves of the pressure to take a big leap, we free ourselves to try out the best guesses that are sometimes all we have in the face of limited information and uncertain destinations. When we keep our steps small, we remain agile enough to make mid-course corrections before we become mired. And when we move at a pace that allows us to be mindful of the journey, we are rewarded with a chance to discover hidden opportunities – and perhaps even better destinations – along the way.

A muddling mindset is not necessarily easy to adopt. Quieting the need for directness and clarity has certainly at times been a struggle for me both in life and in the studio. But I try to remind myself that muddling does not mean that I am unfocused or avoiding commitment. In fact, for me, muddling – and the small experiments that power it – is the best way I have found to journey deeper and arrive at a fulfilling destination even if it is not where I thought I was going.

Powering muddling with small experiments

Years ago, I was struggling with career malaise and trying to think and plan myself into something different. If only, I thought, I could figure out what I wanted to do then I could make a change. A friend of mine, probably tired of hearing me whine, sent me an article from the Harvard Business Review that changed my thinking. Herminia Ibarra’s article, How to Stay Stuck in the Wrong Career, described how most people who make successful career transitions do so not through dramatic leaps but through testing possibilities on a small scale in the form of things like temporary projects and side jobs.

It is the same lesson I keep relearning in the studio. I have never been able to simply leap my way from initial idea to finished piece. I can only make my way by persevering with smaller steps through the messy middle and allowing exploration to help guide me – a mark, a pause, a question. Is this leading somewhere interesting? What’s next?

Approaching muddling as a series of small manageable experiments rather than a groping in the dark can help keep us from feeling completely lost. Experiments – whether in a career or in the studio – give you information no matter their outcome. Information which, if listened to, can help guide the next step.

Muddling as an antidote for uncertain times

There are occasions when big steps are needed. When giant leaps forward are successfully propelled by countless hours of subconscious rumination. When disruption can break us out of stale territory altogether and place us in a new field of possibilities. We certainly live in a culture that romanticizes these bold breakthrough moments.

Yet for most of us, the real work – of a painting, a career, a life – lies not in big bold leaps from point to point, but in the incremental movement through the murky messy middle. People and organizations alike are often best served by taking a step, noticing, adjusting, and moving on.

Muddling through the messy middle is what carries me from a painting that is not yet what I want it to be to a finished work that I didn’t even see coming. It is what has helped me create a life that I never could have planned – working with NASA, a move to Spain, an art practice that has looped back to intertwine with everything else.

And as I watch my kids on the cusp of stepping out of graduate school and into a world without a map where the rules keep changing, I hope that they too can embrace the persistent eyes-open art of muddling through. I hope they can dampen the pressure from a culture that places a premium on having your life figured out. I hope they give themselves permission to take the small steps that might not end up being right but that just might lead somewhere interesting. And I hope they stay curious and mindful enough to notice the opportunities that only reveal themselves mid-journey.

So, despite the raised eyebrows from the rest of the group as I shared my word, I stand by “muddling.”

And I should be so lucky to have many more years of muddling through.

Related Posts