Writing this sentence is me getting back on the horse. I’ve been off of it long enough for the resistance to rear its ugly head again: to make me ask myself whether this habit is worth it, to question my routine, to try to make up some excuse about why I can’t write today either.
I’m getting better at telling the difference between a legitimate excuse for why I need to skip a day of my good habits and that sneaky force known as resistance. Resistance is a very different felt sensation in my body. Resistance is emotional, whereas legitimate reasons are matter-of-fact.
When I woke up yesterday morning after a night full of puking and nausea, I knew it would be all I could do to get dressed and out the door for my group session. That wasn’t resistance, out to get me. That was self-preservation. Choosing to skip my writing practice yesterday was a form of self-care.
On the other hand, resistance feels like whining. Resistance is a yucky sensation in my gut, or a blasé, laissez-faire attitude that I rarely actually feel deeply. It tries to act breezy and careless. It’s slick and sly and tries to convince me that I don’t care anyways (which is rarely true). It makes me think standing up to go rearrange my bookshelf in the middle of writing a post is a good idea. When I catch myself experiencing it, it makes me feel like this emoji: 😬😬😬.
By now I’ve learned that the only effective way to quash resistance is to do the work anyways. Sadly for us overthinking types, we can’t think or justify our way out of resistance and still get the results we want. The only way out is through. So here I am, getting back on this horse, and resistance has been vanquished for another day. Even better: tomorrow will be easier, because I showed up today.