When Matter Gets Uppity: Coaching Ourselves Through Tiny Rebellions

Some weeks, the material world develops an attitude. Mine certainly did. I seemed to have entered a phase of extreme clumsiness: objects leapt out of my hands, cups slid off tables with acrobatic commitment, my shins made direct contact with every available corner. And while I was negotiating this ballet of bumps and crashes, the universe added its own subplot. My street lost water service. Government offices had no appointment dates until the next century. On a recent trip, I found myself seated between two toddlers who were charming in spirit and volcanic in volume.

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In those moments it’s tempting to imagine that matter itself has grown uppity, as if the objects and circumstances around me had joined a secret union meeting and decided to test the limits of my equanimity. And yet, buried in these rebellions is a curious invitation to exploration: what can we do when the world simply refuses to behave?

Theatre of Interpretation

Objects don’t “really” have intentions, of course. Matter is “actually” not plotting. But we experience its misbehavior viscerally, and the stories we tell about it reveal something precious. The mug that “betrays” me. The laptop that “refuses” to cooperate. The bureaucracy that “conspires” against my plans. It is a small theatre of meaning-making, happening right under our noses. Once we notice that it is our meaning-making that is part of the problem, we can shift our mood. Instead of feeling attacked by circumstances, we can evaluate how our stories, emotions and responses serve us and generate some choice. When I was learning to juggle, the trainer invited us to say “Aha!” every time a ball dropped. The shift in focus really helped me to learn with joy rather than with frustration.

This shift in viewpoint doesn’t magically restore the water supply or erase the bruise on my shin, but it does open a tiny pocket of agency. Not over the situation, but over the sense we make of it.

Coaching Skills for Uncooperative Objects

Coaching teaches us to move toward curiosity rather than panic, and humour rather than hopelessness. Coaching moves can also help with stubborn objects and chaotic days:
Presence: When I slowed down even slightly, far fewer things leapt to their doom.
Curiosity: “What is actually happening here?” is a remarkably useful question when faced with both tangled headphones and tangled emotions.
Tiny Experiments:  Instead of wrestling the printer, I tried one small next step. Sometimes the experiment worked. Sometimes it didn’t. Either way, I felt less like the universe’s chew toy.
Resource Orientation: Instead of cursing the appointment system, I remembered I’ve navigated far worse bureaucratic mazes. This wasn’t my first dragon.
As a favorite quote from a very nice movie states: “It all will be good in the end and if it is not good, it means that it is not the end.”

A little help from my friends

As I was sharing my observations of matter getting uppity with my friends, I received a lot of support and commiseration. An astrologer friend even told me that some kind of “mercury event” was responsible. Now, I don’t believe in astrology but knowing that I am not the only one facing rebellious stuff was quite consoling. It is getting on my nerves, but it can’t be helped. Other people go through similar phases, and we can joke about it and revel in our common humanity.

A Slightly Rebel World

There is also something oddly comforting about those days when the world declines your commands. It reminds us that control was never the point. Matter occasionally insisting on its own choreography gives life texture. Maybe this is the gentle, domestic version of existential humility training: a cup that jumps, a street without water, a pair of exuberant toddlers doing improvised percussion beside you.

Instead of interpreting it as hostility, I’ve started treating it as a reminder to stay supple, good-humored, and lightly attentive. The universe may not be conspiring against me, it might simply be inviting me to stay flexible, in the moment and accepting what is.

Shifting focus

I might also treat this as an invitation to look at all the things that are working every day. For example, I am currently sitting water-free but warm. Yes, I spilled coffee all over the floor and I am typing quickly and effortlessly just now. The workers outside are yelling, drilling and making noise and the sun is just breaking through the grey German winter skies. Shifting my focus to everything that is working and realizing that this is also true, helps.

A Small Practice

Next time the world throws a tiny rebellion your way, ask:
• What story am I telling about this? How is my story helping me?
• How can I use my coaching presence, curiosity and will to experiment?
• Who can I connect with and commiserate?
• What can I learn from this?
• What else is also true at this very moment?

It doesn’t solve everything. But it opens the doorway to responding rather than reacting.

So, when matter gets uppity, when objects tumble, water disappears, toddlers create surround sound, and the sky insists on opaque grey, take a breath. None of this is personal. And yet all of it is a chance to practice presence, humour, and a touch of grace. The world won’t always behave, but perhaps it doesn’t have to. Sometimes a little rebellion from matter is the universe’s way of reminding us that life is not meant to be perfectly controlled, only navigated with curiosity.
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