Untangling a Gordian Knot Can Take a Lifetime
If only there was another way...
I love the story of the Gordian Knot.
It’s an ancient Greek legend. Apparently in 333 B.C. someone tied a rope to an oxcart with an incredibly complex knot.
The word was that whoever was able to untie it would end up ruling all of Asia.
Then along came Alexander the Great. Someone challenged him to untangle the knot.
So he did — in a manner of speaking.
He pulled out his sword and slashed through it.
No more knot. No more problems.
And good old Alexander did end up ruling a lot of things as a result of this kind of thinking.
Elegant? No. Often necessary? Oh hell yes.
The story always reminds me of this scene from the Indiana Jones movies:
Is it ethical to shoot someone who was looking to engage you in sword combat? Maybe not.
But can sweaty, exhausted Indiana Jones win the fight without a sword of his own? Highly unlikely.
And thus, a simple (if brutal) solution.
[Side note: in a way, this scene was its own Gordian Knot moment. Apparently Harrison Ford was deathly ill and unable to pull off the intricately choreographed fight scene that was in the script. So they simplified to this horrifically funny and iconic scene instead.]
Why do I keep coming back to the Gordian Knot?
Because it feels so true to so many aspects of my life. I tie myself in knots trying to think about how I can do what’s best for me while taking into account the needs of everyone else and not overstepping any boundaries but also asserting myself and caring for all parties involved, and…
Well, it’s a great recipe for two things that I don’t find particularly appetizing:
Needless complexity and total inaction.
After a while, when you try to think through every possible outcome and find a path that will make everything work out okay, you discover that all you’ve done for hours, or weeks, or even years, is think about outcomes.
You haven’t taken any action. You haven’t taken any risks. You haven’t lived.
The swordsman of your fears has been brandishing his weapons at you while you sweat and cower.
Meanwhile, reality isn’t nearly as complicated as you’ve made it out to be.
There’s a high likelihood that you have a few simple solutions available to you.
The trouble is, they all require slicing through the intricate and somewhat beautiful knot you’ve constructed.
Falling in love with your knot.
It may not be pleasant to be all tangled up inside. But it can become normal, and as human beings, most of us tend to want things to stay the way they are.
So although you might be aware that there are many swords you could pick up to slice your way out, you might also find that you’ve come to like it inside the rat’s nest of your inaction.
Also, while cutting through a knot sounds simple, it’s an act of violence against what you’ve come to see as your normal life.
That’s scary as hell.
It can also feel like cheating. Because Alexander’s story (and Indy’s) looks like cheating — the challenge was to untie the knot, not cut it; you’re supposed to defeat a deadly swordsman using ingenuity, not a gun.
Cutting through can be kind (to you and others).
Taking Alexander’s approach to everything in your life would make you a lazy, violent tyrant.
Some knots need to be unpicked, strand by strand.
Some knots need to be left alone. They’re holding things together.
But there are times when failing to pick up your sword prevents you from getting where you need to get to.
Sometimes the knot is binding you to a place you aren’t supposed to be anymore.
If you’re not an Alexander the Great or an Indiana Jones (and I’m certainly neither of them), it can feel very scary to contemplate slicing through the Gordian Knot of what’s in front of you.
At the very least, you owe it to yourself to consider the possibility. You can use my sword if you need to.