Are You Concerned About the Blueberries?
In 2013, a simple billboard popped up along a road in Flint, Michigan. In text only, it read, “I’m Concerned About the Blueberries.” The message prompted a lot of talk in the city of 80,000. Some thought it referred to something religious, civic, or, well, anything and everything. It took seven years until the person who paid for the billboard came forward and shared just what the heck it meant.
Phil Schaltz was a well-to-do businessman in Flint and responsible for the large highway sign. Years back, Phil and his wife took a cruise to Alaska. While on a stop, they treated themselves to a zipline experience in the lush, cool Alaskan rainforest. During that time, Phil conversed with one of the young 20-something male guides. Phil expected the lad to be upbeat. After all, he could zipline all day and hang with friends with drinks and a campfire at night. But when Phil asked the man how he was, the reply he received was, “Eh, OK.”
When Phil prodded further, the young man uttered that now-famous phrase, “I’m concerned about the blueberries.”
His response stumped Phil. “Man, if your biggest problem is blueberries, just wait until you have a family and a career,” Phil thought. “Then you’ll REALLY have something to worry about.
But as Phil chewed on that statement, what the college kid truly meant started to come into focus. You see, the man was concerned about the blueberries because he could do nothing about them. The young man couldn’t make it rain to nourish the plants. It was out of his hands.
Phil then took that a step further as he thought about how de-sensitized we have become to our community neighbors. Each of them, and each of us, carry our blueberries—those things we have no control over. But a blueberry for one may not be a blueberry for another. Your next-door neighbor may have just returned home from the hospital following surgery. He can’t mow his lawn as a result. To him, his blueberry is his lawn. But you might be in good health, have a lawnmower, and an hour’s worth of time. That man’s blueberry isn’t a blueberry for you at all. This example is just one of a million examples.
A quick exercise: Take a minute and think about what your friends or neighbors’ blueberries might be. How might you be able to pick that blueberry for them? Then think about your blueberries. Can somebody help you?
In the realm of post-trauma, a survivor can feel that their attempt at recovery is a blueberry for them. They can feel frozen by the experience and can’t see that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. As someone down in the hole who has seen the dark cloud lift, I believe I can help with those blueberries. That’s what this blog, my podcasts, and my public speaking engagements aim to do. I don’t want to see anyone lose time and relationships because they see a massive blueberry obstructing their path.
Yes, it’s possible to feel the weight of that giant blueberry lifted off your shoulder, but it takes understanding, habit-building, and a true desire for change to make it happen. And if you’re down with those, you might find that blueberry you’re carrying might not be a blueberry after all.
