WALL-E and Lessons on Mindfulness

Every single one of us exists with an autopilot—an subconscious, evolutionary form of thinking or decision making that exists to preserve our time and energy for the more “high stakes” situations we might encounter.

Our autopilots are tools to reduce decision fatigue or overwhelm. The idea of autopilot as a tool implies that we intentionally use this function to lighten our mental load and improve our day-to-day lives.

One example of how autopilot shows up in our lives is when we find ourselves leaving work and arriving home with little to no memory of the drive in between. Supposedly, we are tired from our shift and have little interest in expending more energy trying to remember a drive we’ve made thousands of times before. But, what happens when we want to be present in that drive home from work? 

There are moments when our autopilots take over tasks that we are not interested in delegating. Even though autopilot is a tool, it is one that can start actively seeking situations in which to help.

I’ve noticed that conversations around these invisible autopilots tend to increase with the beginning of spring. So many of us find ourselves craving time outside in the warmth and sunshine, yet we still find ourselves sitting inside at the end of the day. So, where are we going wrong? 

This is where my WALL-E metaphor comes in. For those who haven’t seen the movie recently, the ship of humans (descendants of the people who initially fled their dying planet) is run day-to-day by “Auto,” the ship’s autopilot function. The captain, McCrea, may make the announcements and exist as the figurehead of the ship, but Auto is the one truly “running the ship”—literally. 

In the movie, EVE is sent to Earth to assess its potential for human re-settlement—specifically assessed through its ability to sustain life. After landing, she runs into WALL-E who proudly shows her his home and his collection of knick-knacks and oddities, including his most recent acquisition—a small sprout hidden inside a boot. EVE secures the plant and immediately sends a signal for pick-up as her job is complete. When they arrive at the main ship, EVE immediately brings this proof of a life-sustaining Earth to Captain McCrea. However, as McCrea attempts to initiate the protocol to return home, Auto seizes the plant and overrides the captain’s command. Auto then reveals a secret, secondary protocol that prevents any return to Earth, as the initial programmers never believed re-settlement would be possible. Even as McCrea tries to initiate a new protocol that would enable Auto to take them home, he is unable to override that secret protocol. A battle for control ensues and we have this scene: Auto & Captain Battle. 

Just like our autopilots, Auto was designed for the ease and convenience of the user, aka the captain. However, there are times when we rely so heavily on the tools at our disposal that we struggle to turn them off. While it won’t be as intense as McCrea’s showdown with Auto, we may still have to directly engage with our autopilots to turn them off. 

So often, when people are describing their desire to try new things or take action in their lives, they say, “I really want to…” or “I should…” or “Hopefully…” as they grapple with autopilots they don’t know how to turn off. At times, I respond to these thoughts with, “Will you?”

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy is unique in its emphasis on action. If a client is navigating social anxiety and the parallel concern that no one likes them, I will not spend time trying to convince them that that is untrue. Instead, we focus on what they can do. We all have  uncomfortable, distressing thoughts, but these thoughts do not determine our actions. If someone has identified community as something they value in their lives, we’ll explore steps towards building that community, while also developing coping mechanisms for navigating the attached anxiety.

Being anxious and being part of a community are not mutually exclusive, but they can be difficult and uncomfortable to navigate simultaneously. That’s when our well-intentioned, but sometimes unwanted, autopilot jumps in. As our brains recognize the potential stress of the situation, our autopilots can default to avoidance, sticking to the routine that feels safe rather than the change that feels overwhelming. 

However, this routine often leaves us unfulfilled. We come home, we scroll on our phones, or watch a show, and suddenly, we need to sleep, and the day is gone. There’s no risk, but there’s no reward either. 

In an ideal world, the fulfilling, meaningful path would be the easy one—the natural choice—but that’s rarely the case. Instead, fulfilling, meaningful action is often uncomfortable and difficult. That’s where our autopilots steer us wrong. Sure, sometimes we need the evenings where we throw together something to eat and scroll on our phones without having to involve our burnt out brains. These nights serve a crucial purpose in navigating an increasingly complex, stressful world. 

But other nights, we need to feel connected with the things that matter to us. These are the things that keep us going through the difficult times. Whether it’s adventure, art, community, joy, learning, movement, nature, volunteering, or simple sunshine—we need to work towards something. 

So, the next time you think about something you want to try, tell your autopilot to take the night off. Remind yourself that you have a choice and that just because something is hard doesn’t mean it’s wrong, or impossible.