That Which We Resist

“Whatever you resist you become. If you resist anger, you are always angry. If you resist sadness, you are always sad. If you resist suffering, you are always suffering. If you resist confusion, you are always confused. We think that we resist certain states because they are there, but actually they are there because we resist them.” —Adyashanti

This summer I was fortunate enough to spend a couple of days in retreat at a yoga and wellness center. For 48 hours I was immersed in yoga, meditation, wellness workshops, delicious and healthy whole food, and the wonderful company not only of one of my dear friends but also of hundreds of like-minded others. It was incredibly soul-filling and rejuvenating.

As I started the weekend, I felt completely open. I moved through yoga classes setting intentions and receiving whatever benefits were available to me in the moment. I listened during workshops and soaked up the information and experiences provided. I felt enthusiastic and interested throughout the weekend, in every moment, and I felt so grateful for the opportunity to participate in such a weekend.

Then my friend and I arrived at our final workshop. It turned out that the workshop wasn’t exactly what I had thought it was going to be. I sat down and saw the notes the instructor had put up on the whiteboard and I felt disappointed. I thought that there really wouldn’t be much for me in this one, and while it might be interesting, I was not going to receive much value from the information. I could see just from the outline on the board that I would never implement the recommendations being made, they were things that just wouldn’t fit my chosen lifestyle.

I almost left. I thought to myself that I could probably find something a bit more relevant to do with my last couple of hours of retreat. I even whispered something to my friend about how this one probably wasn’t going to be particularly relevant.

Looking back, I can see now that I was in a place of resistance. It happens with all of us, for most of us at some point every day. It’s normal, our minds are programmed to be skeptical and critical, to size up situations quickly and evaluate risk, to judge. That is exactly what I was doing in those first few moments. I was sizing up the message, judging it as just too different or too hard or too inconsistent with my lifestyle, too risky to my status quo. I dismissed it based on that initial judgment.

I was aware of my resistance and while I did not link that awareness to an understanding that there may actually be something in this for me that I needed, I stayed and listened, and took some notes. The information was interesting after all, even if I had no intention whatsoever of implementing any of it. At the end of the session, I packed up my things and left to go home.

By the time I arrived home hours later, I had decided that I could probably try one of the instructor’s recommendations. It was a pretty simple thing, would take little time, and while I believed it might feel a little uncomfortable at first I also believed I’d quickly adjust. The beautiful thing was that if I didn’t adjust to it, I could simply stop. I adopted it and found that I actually liked it, and felt better after completing the practice. The next day, I realized that another of her recommendations actually made a lot of sense for me. This one I thought would be really difficult as it involved giving up something I really enjoy, and have enjoyed for probably 25 years or more (coffee). I found, however, that I felt so much better after trying it that I’ve continued it very consistently. Because it’s something that I actually quite enjoy, I do allow myself this pleasure on occasion and have largely found a balance that works quite well for me.

For those of you familiar with the 80-20 rule (we follow our healthy practices 80% of the time and allow ourselves the pleasures of old habits 20% or less of the time), it applies here, and in many of the suggestions for changes we endorse here at Roots First.

Ironically, this was what I found with almost every one of her recommendations. Within just a couple of days, I had implemented about half of them, and within a couple of weeks I had implemented all but one of them fairly consistently. They were easy practices, fit smoothly into my day with little or no impact time-wise, and are hardly noticeable now. They had rather meaningful effects, however. Months later, I am remaining consistent with the changes, simply because I want to. They are easy and I feel better having adopted them.

In retrospect, in a weekend overflowing with helpful wellness practices and tips I immediately loved and felt inspired doing, the ones I resisted most are the ones I now see as the gems of the weekend.

I’m sure you’re wondering what this amazing workshop was about and what recommendations I’ve adopted. I could explain all of that, but it would take a fair bit of time and actually misses the point. It is the subject for a future post, or possibly a challenge group. It doesn’t really matter what the content is, however, what matters is the process I observed. I heard new information that “didn’t fit” with my lifestyle, I resisted and daresay rejected it, and then over time allowed myself to “try it on” little by little. Once I did that and saw the benefits, as well as the cascading effects that have led to further small incremental changes, I can look back and see that quite possibly what I needed most was what I resisted most.

This really begs the question: what is the purpose of resistance? Or maybe the more accessible question is: what can we learn about ourselves by stopping long enough to take a look at our resistance?

I think even in the moment I knew that I didn’t like the recommendations because I believed they would feel uncomfortable, or even unpleasant. I would have to add things that didn’t sound particularly fun, and give up a few things that I really enjoy. I’m not talking about major changes, I promise, nor am I talking about major inconveniences or major discomforts. They did, however, feel major at the time they were presented. I can see now that my resistance was designed to protect me from discomfort, which is something most of us often try to avoid.

What I realized over time, however, was that I actually experienced some discomfort anyways, related to my old habits. I had been ignoring it, minimizing it, or explaining it as related to something else, all so that I wouldn’t have to look at it. When I actually became aware of the discomfort I already experienced, a change was actually pretty easy. All I had to do was try something new to see if it had a different outcome. It turned out it did, and the rest happened very naturally.

Our resistance to something is an instinctive self-protection strategy. It is based in fear: fear of change, fear of discomfort, fear of friction or conflict, fear of powerlessness, fear of (insert fear here). Sometimes it serves us well, but often it actually does not, and rather serves to keep us stuck. We actually need the discomfort, the friction and conflict, the sense of powerlessness, etc. in order to grow. Without it, we have nothing to work with, life becomes too easy and we relax and get stuck.

We need to learn to identify the difference between resistance as a survival mechanism, not often needed in many of our lives, and resistance as a block to growth. We need to work differently with resistance. We can learn to identify resistance, accept it for what it is and invite it in so we can see what it is that we are actually seeking to avoid. We can then take small steps to move past the resistance, open ourselves to small changes, and find ourselves at an outcome that not only serves us better, but that we also actually prefer.

Pay attention to your resistance, invite it in and ask yourself how it is helping you. If it is helping you. In the short term perhaps it is, it is keeping you “comfortable,” and not upsetting the status quo. What is it seeking to avoid, however? I may be out on a limb a bit here, but I imagine for most of us it seeks to avoid some kind of friction or discomfort. Therefore, adhering to the resistance prevents the growth that is possible when we embrace and work with the friction and discomfort. Does this avoidance really serve your greater good? If you decide that the resistance may not be serving your greater good, ask yourself what small, manageable steps you can take to move past it, to try something new, to work with the friction to make a change.

You may find amazing results from very small changes. I certainly have.

“Resistance is the first step to change.” — Louise Hayes