Resistance

This morning I was jotting some thoughts about resistance. I’ve learned (and others have reached these same conclusions) that it’s difficult to try to force myself; That requires a lot of mental energy which I often run short of. What works is when I have a clearly delineated space for the task at hand. I sit here to do the writing. I go to this space to do my painting. I use this notebook and this particular pen to work on my book.

The insight I had, this morning while jotting, was why having a particular set of surroundings, tools, or materials actually works. Resistance exists when I’ve forgotten my reason. Whatever our work is, we originally had some motivation to set out on the undertaking. When we feel resistance it’s because those reasons and motivations are not active in our minds right in that moment.

When we go to that space, or pick up those special materials, we are reminded of our reasons and motivations. Reminded is an interesting word: We often use it flippantly, “remind me to…” But it powerfully shatters resistance by bringing something again (thus the prefix “re”) into our mind: When I sit here in this space, it re‑minds me of my reasons and motivations.

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The Work

After reading the first “book” in Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art, I’m inspired to define, for me specifically: What is “the work?”

In a specific moment, on a specific day, when I feel that odd uneasiness, I will not try to identify the specific form Resistance is taking. Instead as Pressfield mentions on page 12:

[…] We can use this. We can use it as a compass. We can navigate by Resistance, letting it guide us to that calling or action that we must follow before all others.

Rule of thumb: The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.

As a real example of my own experience, Resistance’s compass guides me towards watching sci-fi entertainment (“a harmless relaxation,” I think after working in my yard for hours). So the opposite would be to… organize and streamline my writing environment and processes so tomorrow I can write more easily! No. My hiding in preparation and perfection is just another form of Resistance.

The best way for me is to look at all the possible things I could do, rather than follow Resistance’s compass. Then boil that down to a list of positive, actionable, directions in which I can sit down and work.

In a specific moment, on a specific day, when I feel that odd uneasiness, I can glance at my list and simply do a bit of The Work.

To defeat Resistance I can simply sit down, and do a little bit of any of the following…

  • do guest outreach for podcasting
  • write the next issue of 7 for Sunday
  • write the next Open + Curious article
  • write new blog posts

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PS: I’ve listed “do guest outreach” because—for me—once I do that consistently for a few weeks, all the rest of the podcasting process follows automatically.

It’s resistance

In the most recent months I’ve been waking up with this strange sensation. In the Fall I started deleting things; I started changing projects to require less input, simplifying where I could, and in some cases outright eliminating. Whereas in recent years I’ve generally awakened with a sense of “should”—I should do this, I should have yesterday done that—in the most recent months I’ve awakened with this strange sensation. It’s not optimism per se, but it’s close. What do I want to do today? …do that.

Hovering before me as I wake is the work I know I need to do that day. Inevitably, that labor is daunting. Inescapably, it brings up fear. I don’t want to do it. This fear and this avoidance combine to create the witch’s brew that boils and bubbles in the cauldron of my brain.

~ Steven Pressfield from, My Head in the Morning

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In the Age of Fire I continuously expanded what I wanted to do, beyond the bounds of possibility and reason. Lately, having realized that nothing I do actually matters, I’m free—I’ve always been free—to pick a few nice things upon which to apply myself.

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