What a Fly Taught Me About Problem Solving at Home

A commitment to show up and write my truth | Day 308 of 365

Today, two grown adults and one very enthusiastic toddler spent the better part of the afternoon trying to get a fly out of the house.

On and off, friends. But it added up to hours.

The goal never changed. We wanted it outside to go live its best life. Just not in our house. Nobody here was interested in swatting it, and I loved that about us, even while it zipped past my head for the fortieth time. A paper cup felt like the obvious tool. Then a paper towel. At one point we had it, truly had it, tucked under the paper towel, and then somehow we didn’t.

So we started again.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I thought of Rowan Atkinson in Man Vs Bee. We’d watched that series and laughed at how one tiny insect could take over an entire house. It seemed impossible that anyone would let it get that far.

I understand him a little better now.

We had plenty of kindness. What we were missing was a strategy. Everyone wanted the same outcome, and no one had said out loud how we were going to get there.

When Problem Solving Turns Into Going in Circles

Later, once the house was quiet, I thought about how short that whole episode could have been if we’d stopped for thirty seconds and agreed on a plan. You hold the cup, I’ll open the door, and let’s see if that works.

That pause is where good problem solving actually begins. It’s also the part we skipped.

It reminded me of meetings I’ve sat in over the years, in different jobs and different rooms. The kind where someone raises the issue and everyone has thoughts, some of them genuinely good. The conversation loops back on itself, the clock runs out, and people leave without anyone deciding what happens next.

The following week, the same problem is back on the agenda.

Still buzzing.

I always recognized that pattern at work. I didn’t expect to find it in my own hallway while I was chasing a fly with a paper cup.

What Are We Actually Going to Try?

That question stayed with me all evening. We usually know what’s wrong. The better question is what we’re going to try.

Chasing the fly, we kept reacting to wherever it landed next. Every move was an answer to the last one. Effort was never the issue, and neither was patience. What we hadn’t done was decide.

I think most homes have a few of these flies. Yours might be the pile by the front door that never quite finds a home. It might be a moment with your child that keeps repeating, where each parent responds a little differently and nobody feels settled afterward.

We talk about these things. We feel the same frustration again and again. Sometimes we even fix them for a day. But how often do we sit down, when everyone is calm and fed, and choose one thing to try?

That’s the part I want to own. Not every problem in my house needs a plan. Some flies can just be shooed. The ones that keep coming back, though, are worth a real decision, made on purpose, before anyone is tired and hungry. Try it, then adjust whatever doesn’t work.

There’s a quiet freedom in deciding which problems get your energy, and then giving those few your full attention.

The Fly Made It Outside

It did, eventually.

Not in the cup, and not under the paper towel. In the end, we opened the door and shooed it out. It was the most ordinary ending possible after such a long afternoon.

I hope it’s out there living its adventures. I wish it well, just not in my house, where it scares my toddler. I’m also glad our little one watched two adults choose gentleness over a quick swat, even when the swat would have been faster. That’s a small lesson I hope sticks.

Tomorrow, I’d like to bring a little more of that pause into whatever is asking for my attention. Decide first. Then move.

Preferably before the toddler joins the committee.

About the Author | Day 308 of 365

I’m a soul-led coach, entrepreneur, mother, and recovering perfectionist, currently navigating healing, uncertainty, temporary chapters, motherhood, work, big transitions, grief, nervous system healing, overstimulation, emotional growth, and the ongoing lesson that life works a whole lot better when we stop trying to carry everything alone. Today, I’m thinking about the flies in our lives that keep coming back, and how much lighter things feel once we pause long enough to choose a plan.

Day 308 of 365. Still showing up and learning from a fly. 🐧