I found myself staring down a familiar conundrum this morning. The soap dispenser was getting low (we use the foaming kind), and even after several vigorous pumps, the result was only a few small puffs with hardly any lather.

It’s a pedestrian problem, I know, but I hate to waste. Usually I just keep the ineffective pumping going until I can’t stand it anymore, then throw it away. Or my husband will add some water, which never works, and we end up dumping it anyway.

But this morning I had an insight: I could just unscrew the top from both the old and new dispenser, pour the little bit that remained into the new one, and voila! Both waste and frustration are solved.

If this were a different newsletter, I might say something like, “Isn’t that just like life? The answers we’re seeking are right under our noses!”

That sentiment might make us feel good, in the moment. When solutions are simple, we feel competent, and that competence can lead to feelings of confidence.

But in the long run, a belief in simplicity can be dangerous. Most of the problems we face are neither simple nor obvious. The solution to homelessness, decreasing life expectancy, or even just providing kids with a solid education is not right under our noses. Shoot, I can’t even get my cats to stop scratching my couch.

I think our expectation that things will be simple is the real issue. I know for myself, when I’m feeling stressed about something, a good portion of the time it’s not the problem itself I’m vexed by, but what I think it means that I don’t know how to solve it. Because if problems are simple and solutions are right under our noses, then the only conclusion is that I’m an idiot.

All of that is happening mostly unconsciously, but imagine how many times a day we bump up against problems that aren’t simple. Imagine how that contributes to a feeling of stress, anxiety, and even doom.

It’s not just personal problems we apply this standard too either. We’re bombarded with this kind of thinking about societal problem as well, like this example:

Look, I’m a convert when it comes to eliminating beef and dairy from your diet to move the needle on climate. It’s a step I decided to take myself last year, and it’s been a far easier change than I expected. If anything, I’m embarrassed it took me so long. As this article from The Guardian states, food production contributes a third of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions. They cite a study that shows “people who replaced chicken for beef decreased their carbon dioxide emissions from food by 48% each day.”

I’m high fiving myself right now.

Let’s not imagine, however, that getting millions of people to make any change, dietary or otherwise, is simple. It’s hard to get people to quit smoking when it’s their own life on the line. Nor will dietary changes be enough, by themselves, to solve the water crisis in the West. That’s absurd. It’s going to take sweeping lifestyle changes to address a rapidly warming planet, and even then, decades of warming are already baked into the system because greenhouse gases last for so long in the atmosphere.

That may feel a little overwhelming at first, but I’m arguing that it’s the consequences of ignoring the complexity that bog us down, not the complexity itself. Continuing to ignore that complexity won’t make us feel any better.

Here are three reasons why I actually relax when I remind myself I’m facing a complex problem:

1. It’s not up to you, but it begins with you

Complexity takes the pressure off any one person in the system. You can’t solve complex problems alone, so you don’t have to question your intelligence or abilities if you haven’t figured everything out yet. But you do have an important role to play. It’s like that quote often ascribed to Gandhi says, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” How do you do that?

2. Start small, go broad

There’s no single solution to a complex problem. So you start with just one thing that’s well within your control, and then broaden your efforts from there.

For example, when it comes to climate, I started with dietary changes, but then moved on to a whole range of efforts, including reducing the setting on our thermostat, buying an electric car, and reducing our usage of our natural gas stove (thanks to a purchase of a portable, induction hot plate). These efforts add up. Not only have I reduced our energy bill, but I feel good about taking action. In the near future, I have more actions I want to take, like switching to a climate-friendly bank.

I’ve used my own climate efforts as an example, but this approach is useful whether you’re trying to create a high-performing team at work or stem a pandemic. If you need ideas about what your first small contribution might be, I recommend Heather White’s book One Green Thing. It’s aimed at climate change, but offers a terrific framework for finding your complexity superpower regardless of what issue you’re focused on.

3. Culture change comes from consistency

Complex problems don’t lend themselves to a “one and done” approach. So the key is consistent change, which has the added bonus of influencing those close to you. Cultural change is inherently social. If you want the world to stop eating beef and dairy, make the change yourself and share what you’re doing with your own circle of friends. Studies show that the tipping point for change only requires about 25% of the members to adopt a new behavior.

This is by no means a quick change, but as your friends change, so they influence their social circles. It’s especially effective if people are influenced by multiple sources. For example, when the characters in their favorite novel also stop eating beef, it contributes to the tipping point as if it were an actual person. (Which is why I’m writing a novel that discusses climate change!)

One of the biggest evolutionary advantages humans have is not the opposable thumb, but collaboration at scale. What I hope you can see here is that while addressing complexity isn’t easy, each individual’s part isn’t hard either. And while we may have to choose which problems we want to focus on at any one time, there are more than enough of us to make major changes in the world if we choose to.

What complexity teaches us is that you have so much more influence than you imagined. And that’s gotta feel good.