Dear Resistance,
I have known you all my life. You haunt me with every breath. I'm sick of the voices that feed me doubts and distractions. The constant fears and hesitations you cause are worse than nails on a chalkboard.
Your deception is often disguised as beauty. One moment you are a cup of coffee, or four seconds later a shiny new guitar. You know how to use a beautiful song or amazing speech to make me feel even more insecure.
Your ugly side is absolutely disgusting as you reach deep into your arsenal to give out headaches, illness, and stress. You love to make engines stall and tires go flat. You even wait for me in the mailbox on pages that say amount due.
I've tried to cope with you by any means necessary: alcohol, television, movies, money, music, sex, sleeping, excessive research, drugs, email, Facebook and Twitter. It doesn't matter. None of those things stop you. I know you really delight if I take refuge in those things.
It is only when I put in the hours doing the work you tell me not to do that you hide for a while.
I know in this never-ending war I will lose some battles. Since you attack first from within, you have many advantages. You maybe beat me tomorrow, but I will prevail today. Every word on the page is a chink in your armor. Every sentence is a jab to your gut. I am a writer. I am creative. Today I'm ready to fight. Today I'm ready to fight.
PRACTICE
Write your own letter to the Resistance. How has it held you back in the past? What are you going to do to keep it at bay in the future?
Write for fifteen minutes. When you're done, post your letter in the comments section.
Photo by Slava.
Beloved Resistance. I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me — protect me from embarrassment. Protect me from failure. Protect me from discovering that the belief systems I live by are bogus. I really appreciate it. But I tell you what… I’m going to risk the failure. In fact, I bet that what I really need lies on the other side of all that risk and failure. So, thanks for all your hard work. I really mean it. I’ll call ya if I need ya.
Great work PJ. I love the sarcasm. Thanks so much for sharing.
I know, it sounds like sarcasm, but it really isn’t. I’m entirely serious in my compassion for this “resistance”. It doesn’t know of a higher self, it’s truly trying to protect the organizm from annihilation. It just can’t see a bigger picture. For this reason, there’s no need to get combative with the big “R”. I just let it attempt to do it’s thing… as I ignore it. Does that make sense?
Great perspective, PJ. I like that. I don’t think I would have thought about it that way, but it’s a powerful shift from the kind of “Warrior Ethos” Pressfield has to a more Zen, compassionate assertiveness. It’s beautiful.
I get what you’re saying PJ, but obviously my experience has been completely different. I think the key is you are creating art. That’s what REALLY matters. Thanks for sharing your unique perspective.
This is a really helpful perspective–fear does exist for a reason, but we can determine when it’s helping us and when it’s not. “I bet that what I really need lies on the other side of all that risk and failure.” I’m gonna hold onto this thought.
I can almost hear “Chariots of Fire” playing… I mean that as a compliment! Great post, Joe. Thank you.
I actually constantly have the Rocky IV theme (training in Russia) going in my head. The resistance to me is often in the form of a big Russian boxer who is on steroids. But you’re right, “Chariots of Fire” does work really well too 🙂
Excellent! My favorite part is “sometimes you use a beautiful song or amazing speech to make me feel even more insecure”. I never thought of that. I try to read “the best” short stories out there and believe me Baxter, Atwood, Moore, Trevor etc. make me feel like I need some kind of remedial thought classes, before I even think about writing another word.
You are being published on my wall amid Wilde, Emerson, Twain and Jimi I’m copying your words in big letters by hand with your name on top. and posting it on the door where I keep my inspiration quotes (between the dining room and the seductive kitchen where the resistance waits with all kinds of palatable pitfalls).
Thanks again
Marianne
Wow, such a compliment! Thank you so much! I’d like to thank Joe Bunting, and Sylvester Stallone (Rocky gives me inspiration) and… haha 🙂
I agree. I absolutely loved this post! Everything about it! The different guises, the conquering hero… really wonderful. May you win the war. : )
Thanks so much Shelley. So glad you shared your work!
Ha ha! Oh Marianne, the ‘seductive kitchen’ holds the worst kind of Resistance, you’re right. Food is a rather fantastic distraction isn’t it!
I read an article the other day in the Gotham Writer’s workshop newsletter that said something to this effect (I cannot copy the link for some reason)
Jacob Appel said that before he won a short story contest in the Boston Review, he had submitted that story 75 times to various magazines and had it rejected. Winning that contest scored him an agent. One of the places that he had submitted his prize winning story to in the first place was to the Boston Review, where it had been rejected.
It is an interesting article and I am going to see about the link again later.
That’s amazing. I love those stories! If you find the link, please share it for sure!
I keep trying to post this and it keeps disappearing. Here is the link and from there you go to Tips for publishing a short story
http://www.writingclasses.com/contact/mailings/message-2639.html
Dear Resistance,
Why do you toy with me so? Have you nothing better to do? Have the Gods cursed you with such a task as punishment for some supposed wrong-doing? Let me alone. I want no part of it.
I know I should not allow you to rile me. I really do try to find value in everyone, but I struggle to see any in you. I know the only value comes from seeing you and recognizing who you are. And yet, I cannot seem to resist you.
You hold me back. You incessantly whisper sweet nothings in my ear, distracting me from my task at hand. You woo me with your wiles, and I give in to temptation. You watch me amused. And I watch you as you stomp on my dreams, daring me to stomp them with you, grapes that would never be turned to fine wine.
This is not a healthy relationship. The hours we while away together only rob me of my dreams, my imagination, my pride, my sense of accomplishment. Are you so cold that you care not at all? Are your own dreams so distant that you cannot understand?
Why, oh why, won’t you just go away and leave me alone with the courage of my conviction? You leave me feeling used, abused, neglected, and ashamed. You are verily evil incarnate.
I do not know what is this irresistible power you wield over me. Some ancient alchemy? Some sordid spell? Some intoxicating elixir that you slipped to me unbeknownst?
It is said that I can transform you into the Bhodi path. I wish to make medicine of this poison you spew. Alas, really, the only gold I wish is to transform you to is wonderfully witty words on the page. Any words on a page would be better than none.
So I acknowledge you. I bear witness to your beingness. Through witnessing I will find my way to the inner truth. My own philosopher’s stone is here hidden on my soul. And I will journey to my own magnum Opus.
I know you will be there snapping at my heels. But I will pay you no heed. I will absorb you, transform you to your opposite, and then I will be free.
You can stay at a hotel next time you’re in town. Hell, I’ll even pay for it myself. I always do.
Shelley
Wow Shelley, your letter blows me away. This part especially- “You incessantly whisper sweet nothings in my ear, distracting me from my task at hand.”
So well said! The resistance loves to just distract you and steal our most precious resource, TIME. I don’t want to admit how often I take time for granted. Time is the one thing that we can never get back.
Being productive is a necessity. (However, I firmly feel you can be productive by doing nothing and taking a break when it is needed.)
Thanks Jim… it got a little garbled toward the end… posted without edit… but a really excellent exercise. Thank you. : )
Hi Shelley! Verily, unbeknownst, pay you no heed? Why, we could be sisters separated at birth. My sister said to me once, ‘Why do you talk the way you do? You’d think you were in the middle ages!’ Ha.
I just wondered also, where do I know you from? Your name is so familiar to me….
Hmmm… I am not sure why my name is familiar… maybe one daythe answer will be that I am a well known author… but not right now : )
If you like the language… check out this piece I wrote:
http://letmemoveyou.me/reverie
Hope you enjoy!
Wow Shelley you wrote that piece? How did you do that?? Amazing…
I know I have seen your name previously and your image too now I think about it. I was thinking you might be a Facebook friend, or a blogger, or perhaps I’ve ‘seen’ you comment on other blogs I frequent? Not sure at the mo. But I’ll tell you if I figure it out!!
That really sounds like a war. I like the part about stping on grapes.
It is! This was a great exercise for me. : )
Thanks! Very good.
My pleasure. Thank you so much Mike for reading.
My dear friend, Resistance, or as you and I know in my case you are Procrastination, we need to talk. Really. Things have gotten bad. Especially this year. Something about 2012 is getting away from me! There’s always 101 things I need to do, right? The beds need making, the dinner needs preparing, the family newsletter needs to go out. I think the issue here is prioritising. I’ve put working on my own book at the bottom of the list. So every day all the other things get done but the writing, none. Let’s face it Procrastination, you’re winning. So far 2012 is all yours. How much am I realistically getting done on book two in the series? Maybe two to three hours a week tops. Let’s compromise shall we? You get half the day, I get the other? Done!
I love your conversational tone in this letter. “You get half the day, I get the other? Done!” I love the honesty too.
I think (in my experience and what I have seen) the resistance really can’t be rationalized with. I think it REALLY wants ALL of us to quit writing altogether. It wants us all to sit on the couch and eat bon-bons while watching Springer and Maury.
If that’s not a call to grab your pens and notebooks, I don’t know what is!
Ha ha true. How could we live with ourselves, or look in the mirror, if we just lay down and let it roll over us like a steamroller?? Fighting with all the reasons ‘why not to write’ are a daily battle boy!
Half of each day would be wonderful wouldn’t. I keep thinking its just a matter of getting organized but it really isn’t I guess.
You know what Marianne writing that letter did shift my priorities yesterday. When I would have gone back to Facebook or my emails in the afternoon, I said no, I just told myself I’d get to my book. So I did!!
I love the kindness and forgiveness you have for your procrastination. Acceptance and understanding help us move forward. : )
Thank you Shelley. My gran’s most oft quoted snippet from the bible was ‘Be Kind’ and I have come to realize with the years just how important that is….
Hey There Resistance,
You better back off, because I am about to get a little bit violent. You make me crazy, distracting me to death with your silly little rambling,
“Pssst… don’t you have check Craigslist one more time to find that apartment you really need to move into? While your at it look in the pet section for a Boston Terrier puppy, because if there was one sitting at your feet right now surely everything in your life would be better. Speaking of life being better, don’t you need to get a haircut? And I think it’s about time you….”
SHUT UP!
I interrupt you, knocking you to the ground. It’s time to write.
Until tomorrow when you get back up. Or an hour from now. Or five minutes.
What can I say? I can beat you up all I want, but maybe that just makes me feel more crazy, because, honestly you are a part of me. It’s true. I am my own worst enemy.
Great, now I feel schizophrenic….
Maybe I’ll just ignore you from now on.
You made me laugh out loud. I see the struggle. Hell, I’ve felt it! I think you could kick the crap out of resistance. Your words roar your victory!
Brooke, this is exactly the same conversation I have especially with online browsing. Great job.
Don’t worry Brooke (about the schizophrenia), everyone is all shades of crazy. You fit in perfectly!
Dear Resistance,
I apologize for yelling at you yesterday. We both got angry and said some horrible things to each other. We were frustrated with our lack of progress. I know I didn’t mean it when I said you were a waste of time and if you were so smart you might actually come up with a fresh idea instead of criticising mine. And I know Resistance that, in your heart deep, deep down you didn’t mean it when you called me a talentless buffoon with no hope of publishing in this or the anther life time. All water under the bridge, my friend.
Yesterday made me think, perhaps things just aren’t working out between us. Do we need a break? Temporary or forever. No, not at all Resi. I realized tt would be like Ben without Jerry, Siegfried without Roy.
We make a great team. Together we are a (moderately dysfunctional) team that together challenges to fight for something better.
Just go easy sometimes, will ya,
Persistence
I like the compassion you have for your Resi. It is such an important part of us. I believe as we honour it and exlore why it’s there, the friendship softens are our need for each other lessens. Very nice.
That’s great, Resistance and Persistence. It does come down to persistence winning at least most of the time doesn’t it?
I’m so glad to know you made up and are on speaking terms again. Let’s face it without the persistance no marriage would ever last more than ten minutes!
Dearest Resistance,
You have lived with me for a long time now. You and me, secret lovers. You are always there, around the corner, waiting to cradle me in your arms. Waiting to hold me when my dream scares me.
You protected me for years from the vulnerability of even knowing my dream.
The safety of your distraction gave me room to explore. To gather experience. Even though you didn’t’ realize it, you were hurting your cause.
I’m sorry, Resistance, but that’s what you do. It’s what you are. Even when your’e not trying, honey, you hurt things.
And that’s why I have to leave you. That’s why I have to ask you to leave my house. Demand that you do, if I must.
We had a great life together. We’ve done so much…we’ve surfed the Internet, we’ve cleaned the house. I will especially miss our marathons of House Hunters International.
But baby, it’s time I dreamed my own dream now.
You knew this was coming. Lately, you’ve noticed me getting up early in the mornings, leaving you sleeping quietly in bed, your soft snores encouraging to me to create.
Your familiar scent will linger here for a while, I know. Years will go by and I’ll still catch it and remember you. I’ll think nostalgically of lying in a warm bed on a rainy Saturday morning with the remote in my hand, with you by my side.
Nostaligia is funny like that, isn’t it? We remember, a part of us misses, but we still know that we’re in a better place.
I suspect this will hard for you. I need my key back. I’ll ask you to not drop by. But I know you still will try.
Honey, I’ve loved you. But I will not answer the door. And if you try to sneak in that window in the dining room, the one with the latch that has been broken for years? Yeah, don’t try that. Because it will be fixed. Your’e not holding me back from things anymore.
Resistance, my love, it’s time we lived our own lives.
It’s not you, it’s me.
Really.
Now, it has to be about me. It’s about my family. It’s about my passion. Not yours. I bought into you for far too long.
No more.
Be happy for me?
I know it will be hard for you. I know it will be tempting for you to try to fight for me, and I’m honored that you think I’m important enough for that. I’m touched that you think my dream is big enough for your undivided attention.
But I gotta tell you….it’s not worth your effort. You will lose in the end. So, spare yourself the heartache. Go put your energy somewhere that you’re more likely to win. You deserve someone who will love you like you need to be loved.
But I guess when i think about that…..Hmm. Maybe not.
Let’s stop the platitudes and get real for a minute.
It’s not me. It’s you.
Really, man. It’s you.
OK. So yeah, maybe we have had a good run…good for you maybe. But not for me.
And not for anyone else.
You’re toxic, man. Stop it.
Forget what I said about deserving someone who loves you. Because that person doesn’t deserve to love you. No one deserves that. Eveyone deserves their dreams, and no one deserves to have you come in and ruin them the way you always do. You need to get some help, dude.
Now give me back that key, and just go before I call the cops.
I love this. The move from tender to toxic. It’s not you. It’s me. – It’s not me. It’s you. Really well written. I can feel the emotion. Keep writing.
Brilliant Christine. It’s like a love story gone wrong.
Yeah, Christine, I want to hear more. It’s getting delightfully nasty.
Me and Resistance. The soap opera told in blog posts… 🙂
For some reason, I’m thinking of Days of Our Lives. In my pre-writing days I’d watch waaaaaaay too much of that with my wife. 🙂 haha
I almost feel sorry for resistance, having to watch House Hunters all alone. Very sad.
Christine, I love the change of tone at the end. This was fun and my resistance is starting to get a bit nervous.
I don’t normally condone “affairs” but I think this time it’s justified.
Here is the link to the article that I mentioned yesterday about tips for getting a story published. It’s short and interesting
http://www.writingclasses.com/contact/mailings/message-2639.html#1
Dear Resistance,
I’m not sure who assigned you to follow me around, but I’ve become accustomed to your presence. I have tolerated you beyond what is good for me. You are so easy to be with. Every time I go to sit down you pull out a chair for me and make sure I have plenty to keep me occupied. You’ve thought of everything – the manicure kit, the remote, the stack of papers I’ve been meaning to read, and I have a sneaky suspicion it’s you who fills my email inbox with enticing subject headlines.
It’s time to set some boundaries, past time really. No more visiting unannounced, and I don’t intent to request your presence or services for a long time. I suggest you find others to stalk and meet your sick co-dependent needs with. I am moving on to uninterrupted times of clear thinking and persistent writing. Your manipulation will not stop me even though I may hear your poisonous thoughts in my head for awhile.
There is no room for you here anymore. I have plans to invite Inspiration, Just Do It, Write Practices, Positive Attitude, Prayers and many others who will look out for my successful interests and not my lazy comfort.
So here’s the door, please leave and don’t come back unless I ask for you. There may be unique circumstances where I will call you. I admit you were awesome when the kids wanted to borrow money, and you kept me from giving in to buying the sweeper the suave salesman almost talked me into. But it’s adios right now Jose!
Determined to Succeed
Amen! Totally following the codependency angle, and I love the way you take the power to bend Resistance to suit your will with the kids!
All power to you Ruth! I agree with the idea of setting boundaries. We need actual strategies and set plans in place in order to push through….
Dear Resistance,
I know what makes you strong—fatigue, the stress of life changes, comparisons with others. You like to say that if it’s not brilliant, it’s not worth it. You like to tell me that I don’t have what it takes, that others are more creative, more competent, more energetic.
It’s hard to get rid of you, because you are the other half of me. It’s hard to debate you, because your lies are half-truths. Maybe I am less energetic than some; I need to rest, and then I know that I will have the energy to work, however unlikely that feels right now. So I’m not accomplishing a lot, granted; but I’ll accomplish a lot more if I stop listening to you.
I’m going to stop wasting my time debating you, even in those moments when I fear you’re right. I’m going to prove you wrong.
Rachelle, I can so relate to these words. “Fatigue, stress and half truths.”
Remember, you prove the resistance wrong by doing the work. Great job.
Resistance:
You gentle saboteur.
All these years, you’ve been saying that it was for my own good.
And at first, I listened.
Do you have any idea how charming you can be? I was so happily misled. You plied me with warm cups of tea, my favorite TV shows… You even snipped out the Sunday crosswords to help with my “vocabulary.” I devoured every excuse you aimed my way.
But even the sweetest veneers can wear.
I’ve taken my pens and my notepads and the mechanical keyboard, but everything else is yours. (You know, I never was fond of your furniture. It all felt too comfortable, in a way.) I’d leave a forwarding address, but I know you wouldn’t write me. You’d be too worried I’d write back.
So, Resistance, this is it.
I hope you have the decency, if I call you late at night, to pretend you’re not at home.
In kindness,
~ KMT
Dear Resistance,
I want to make a difference in the world. I want life to matter. I want my life to matter.
I want to tell stories in a way that readers not only feel the humanity of the characters, but they feel their own humanity too. I want them to jump from their sofas to take action, to make their voices heard, to join movements.
This is a noble goal!
So why do you mock me, evil resistance? Why do you make me waste time, time that cannot be reclaimed? Why do you make me lose sleep so that in the morning fog, it takes too much energy to feel my characters’ pain?
As I sit here, you climb from my palms and through the lower side of my arms, the side that only sees the light of day when I do my ergonomic stretches. You seize my neck and reach my eyes. You make me tired and sad. And old.
If Donna were here, she would say that I need to embrace you and find out what it is you are here to teach me. If Donna said that, I would nod wisely and turn away to roll my eyes.
A curse on your house, resistance! I know what you are here to do! You want to prevent me from becoming the best that I can be.
You won’t win.
Resistance, your name is “practicality”. You’ve regularly presented me with a list of all the reasons why I should not pursue my desires, why I should not subdue and conquer the words that rage within me, why I should…do my laundry and empty the dishwasher.
I first remember you appearing on the scene when I was 17 years old and deciding on a college major and career path. English teacher, Journalist or Forest Ranger. You presented me with statistics showing negative growth in those job fields. I followed your guidance and chose a business career instead.
Though I’ve done well in my career, contracts do not inspire me the way forests and mountains do. Numbers do not flow from me as freely as words. I am not energized by spreadsheets and graphs.
When I attempt to put pen to paper – or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be, your voice is whispering in my ear “You’re too old. You missed your chance. You can never catch up.” Older and wiser, I reply, “YOU are too old, Resistance. Your tactics are antiquated and are no longer effective. My views of what is practical have matured; yours have not.
It is more practical to nurture my creative spirit than to vacuum. I find it more practical to polish my writing than my coffee table. From Proverbs 17:1 “better is a dry morsel with quiet than a house full of feasting with strife.” When I feast in your house, Resistance, I starve in my soul.
I choose to weed through words than gardens and tend my heart not my lawn.