Resisting Resistance [+Sept 29]

[This is a “crowd-written” creation (regarding “Resistance”)—resulting from dozens of Zoom Chat comments during the August WriteNow 360° virtual event. Join us on September 29 @ 1:00 PM ET for the September installment. Free. Virtual. Registration is HERE]

Resistance: The dreaded Monster of procrastination—and faithful barrier to writing (and all other creative endeavors).

When I sit down to write, I often hear a voice.

“Do I have a voice?”

“Is it good enough?”

Do I write this thing now—or later? Should I write it at all?

“Do question marks go inside or outside the quotation marks”?”

Should I use “quotation marks” at all?

I have to determine that before I write this.

I’m stuck.

Where is this voice coming from?

Crap! I just used a preposition at the end of a sentence.

I know that If I wait for perfection—I’ll never write a word.

The inner critic is yelling at me. Loudly.

I’m afraid. 

I know. I’ll find an excuse. That’s it. Something that distracts me. I’m sure there’s something more important I need to do. There always is.

My socks need folding. Right. Right. (BTW, do we really “fold” socks? 🤔).

I’m paralyzed.

But I’m not paralyzed if I make a move. Even a little one.

There’s a healthy tension between my Resistance and my Heart. This is good. My Heart needs to speak. It resists Resistance. The tension itself is a topic.

The Heart is destined to express.

I’m going to break the silence.

The topic may not be 100% ready. I may not be 100% ready.

But when is it? When am I? When are we? Never.

I’m going to speak.

Now.

It isn’t about me. 

It’s about what needs to be written. 

What needs to be expressed. 

What needs to be read.

The dough has had plenty of time to rise. It has done whatever dough does when it does dough-rising things.

I am ready.

In fact, I need this. 

I need to release this voice.

Ever since I was a kid, my voice was pencil and paper.  

I didn’t worry about who was listening then.

Why worry now?

I love to write.  

I love it.

It helps me think. More fully.  

It becomes my ongoing act of Evolution. Of Revolution. 

Writing is an act of Love.

I’m going to write a Love letter to myself. 

While I’m at it, I might even write a Love letter to the Monster.

I can Love the Monster just like I can Love myself. 

The Resistance Monster makes me stronger. Better.

Resistance provides me greater resolve—and thus greater reward—in the end.  

It makes me see—and feel—more vividly.

It causes me to persist. To bloom. To open up with full force, especially after the fight.

Resistance, whether real or illusion… is my Foe and my Friend.