Eight years ago, I started writing this blog. Year after year, I’ve found myself repeating like a broken record, “I need to take my writing more seriously” or “I need to write more consistently.” Last month, I made the decision to write 2000 words every day. Guess how many I wrote? Possibly about ten thousand words. Across the entire month. Everything seemed to get into the way. After struggling for the last week with being unable to focus, I decided to pick up The War of Art by Steven Pressfield last weekend; I read bits of it in the past, but I need to read it again. And guess who procrastinated reading that? You got it! I did, until yesterday when I forced myself to read it.
It’s an interesting thing, resistance. It’s everywhere. Every single excuse I have ever made is somehow related to resistance.
I can’t write because I… can’t focus.
I can’t write because I… am tired.
I can’t write because I… have to finish this thing for work.
I can’t write because I… want to talk to my other half.
I can’t write because I… don’t feel well.
I can’t write because I… am depressed or sad.
I can’t write because I… want to read, and then I don’t bother to read.
I can’t write because I… didn’t sleep well last night.
I can’t write because I… am resisting.
Have you ever noticed that when you have to do something that requires actual work, like exercise, personal education or sometimes even getting the laundry done, you can suddenly come up with a million reasons why you can’t do what you’re supposed to be doing. A week will pass, and then a month, and then a year, and then five years. For me, it’s been eight years. Resist. Resist. Resist.
I’m identifying it. I’m saying, “you, poor excuse, are actually resistance under that mask of a million poor excuses.” By doing this, I’m able to stop resistance, and do what needs to be done.
I’m going to share a scary thing with you. It’s currently 7:52am. I’ve identified 14 forms of resistance today already. To write this was another battle. It’s frustrating because I am fighting against myself to better myself; or at least that’s how it feels. By defying resistance, you’re opening a circuit for whatever you need to get done to flow through. It’s now 8am, and I’ve written 400 words. Defying resistance feels good.
I haven’t finished that book yet, but I will this week. So far, I would advise anyone to go and pick up a copy. You can get it online more illegally, but I admire Steven’s ability to defy resistance to actually write a book on resistance, so he deserves a medal, and a few odd quid for my gratitude.
I’m telling resistance to fuck off. Are you?
Post Script.
I wrote this on April 5th. I’ve resisted publishing this for a number of reasons. It’s now April 16th, and I’ve only now found enough “confidence” (i.e. bullshit resistance excuse) to publish it. I have not edited a single word of this since April 5th. How’s that for resistance?
I have one question for you. What are you resisting in your life as time ticks by?
