There's a difference between being indifferent about doing something and feeling as though everything is hard or feeling a heaviness to each activity in your day. The former refers to a nonchalant attitude, not caring either way whether you choose to, for example, do the laundry or not, feeling light regardless of which choice you make and knowing you'll do it when you need to. The latter refers to a cloud in the mind, feeling stuck, that any activity requires too much energy--energy you believe you don't have--and wanting to crawl up in bed or watch TV.
The latter is what we call RESISTANCE.
Resistance is that wall you hit that seemingly prevents you from going for that walk you've been talking about doing.
Resistance is that feeling that cues the voice inside your head who says "I'm tired. I just want to do nothing right now" and the more you listen to that voice, the more that feeling of resistance triggers you into a state of stagnation.
Resistance is the push back against something, anything.
Steven Pressfield talks about Resistance in his book The War of Art and says that Resistance is a completely useless feeling, that there is absolutely no benefit to it.
For a week in January, I was feeling very low. I didn't want to do anything. Everything felt hard, from going to work, to cooking dinner, to going outside. Resistance had a grip on me. Did that stop me from doing anything?
Sometimes it did. Sometimes I took a back seat, I chucked on some Modern Family and I sat down for an hour, or we ate leftovers for dinner multiple times during the week (we usually save them up for weekday lunches). Any decisions I had to make were difficult, and sometimes I just refused to make them, my mind stirring up a cyclone of unmade choices.
I feared this Resistance. I had felt this before, when I was depressed. I started to worry that I was depressed again, and that it would never go away.
The first key, the first spark of hope, was that I noticed a cue for when I spiralled into depression. That cue, for me, was "I just want to lie in bed." Not from tiredness, from wanting to give up on everything.
But I thought of "resistance" as a concept, and I knew that if I gave into the voice that came with the Resistance, depression could eventually become my reality.
So I heard the voices, telling me to just lay down, to not cook dinner, to not have sex, to sit on the couch, to scroll on my phone, to ask Chas to do the dishes. I heard the voices, knowing that they were not rooted in compassion but rather that pesky R word, and chose to act differently.
When my mind told me to lay down, I calmly slowly tidied the kitchen.
When my head told me not to cook dinner, that lasagna is too hard to make, I defrosted some mince and I did the dishes, so that all the tools I needed were clean.
When my thoughts told me to sit on the couch, scroll on my phone, watch some TV while I was cooking dinner, I brought the lounge to me: I put Modern Family on my laptop while I prepped.
When I wanted Chas to save me from washing the dishes, I started prepping the sink and looked over at him--he who had also had a big day and was working hard on a gofundme for our podcast--I knew that it was resistance once again. So in my own time, I washed up.
When my brain told me not to ask for sex, I tuned into my body, cuddled my husband for a while and said "I've changed my mind".
I felt exhausted by the end of that afternoon. I was fighting an internal battle and it began to express itself on the outside in the form of sullen, droopy eyes and a quietness in my voice.
But when that kitchen was cleaned, I felt better.
When I brough Modern Family into the kitchen, I found myself laughing and enjoying the cooking process.
After I washed those dishes, I heard a voice in my head say "You did it! It's all done! Time to rest! Enjoy your evening! Go buy yourself a Kombucha to celebrate!"
When that lasagna was in my mouth, I was overwhelmingly grateful that I had cooked it... and that I had more to eat tomorrow!!
And I was grateful to myself for speaking up about sex too.
I say all this because I want you to know that it is human to have Resistance. Sometimes you will give in, but that can't be all the time every day. There is a huge difference between compassionately making life easier on you and letting Resistance keep you inactive.
As for Resistance being useless? I can see that. But I can also see how Resistance taught me to fight for myself, to care for myself, to become my own number one supporter. So often we deem a feeling as negative and therefore serving no purpose, but this Resistance did serve a purpose. It taught me what Resistance truly is, that it doesn't have a hold over anyone and that we can choose differently.
Does that mean life will always be easy? No! I felt like I was trudging through mud when Resistance came around. The day after I chose to persevere, I felt the voice of Resistance lingering in the back of my mind but it was so much easier to not give in, and I attribute that to the work I had done the day before.
I don't know if you've ever rode a bike on thick grass before, but you have to drop the gears down to 1 or 2 so that it doesn't feel so hard on your legs. Ultimately, you're dropping the resistance you feel on the pedals, so there's next to no push back. The pedals spin faster, become lighter. It becomes very easy. Too easy. I wasn't getting very far, I wasn't going very fast, and most importantly, I wasn't enjoying myself. So I cranked the gears up to 3 or 4, and I felt the resistance shift dramatically. My quad muscles turned on and I had to push. And there's benefit to that. I was enjoying the ride again. I was growing strength. I was elevating my heart activity. I was showing myself that I am strong and I am capable.
And you know what the best part about all of this was?
The Resistance was only temporary.
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