I have experienced a power of seduction that can derail me or worse, thwart any inspiration to even start on a project. That force rears up to smack me down: incompetence, not good enough, not smart enough, not perfect enough, not experienced enough, not professional enough … and I just want to scream, ENOUGH!
This abominable force is RESISTANCE.
In Steven Pressfield’s book, “The War of Art”, he writes about resistance to great extent. He says that resistance doesn’t seek to wound; its intention is to kill. Resistance loves to control with fear. It reaches into your deepest, darkest self-doubting thoughts. It loves to see you stumble, fall, squirm, and wither in defeat.
My first manuscript acceptance
I wrote a children’s book some years ago. It was my first children’s book and in fact, my first book. It was an assignment for a children’s agency that I’d had fun with, being silly. I wrote this short book in about two weeks.
I read it to a couple of people who thought it was pretty good. I had always wanted to be published so I began to search for a publisher online. I had no idea of how to go about this process and I just went with my gut on finding what I thought was an appropriate publisher.
Once I found a publisher I liked, I followed their submission guidelines to the letter. I mailed in the manuscript with the excited anticipation that they might accept it. I felt no anxiety about a possible rejection. At least I had submitted a manuscript.
Within about two weeks I received an email from the publisher saying my manuscript fit their publishing style. Okay … I waited some more. A short time later I received another email saying that my manuscript had been shortlisted. Well … at that time I didn’t even know what shortlisted was. Then some weeks later I received another email from the publisher saying that my manuscript had been accepted for publication. I was elated! The elation lasted but a few moments – as then I thought, “Well, that was just way too easy. I mean, my first book, the first publisher I approach, and my manuscript is accepted when all I hear is how next to impossible it is to get a children’s book manuscript accepted. How can this be? This publisher must be some fly-by-nightie. There has to be something wrong.”
My painful bout with resistance
The publisher then sent me a copy of the contract to look over and with just one look, I fell into a state of hysteria of a sort. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what this thing even said.
To make a longish story shorter, my utter intimidation by this whole situation had me run for help. Unfortunately, the help I hired only helped me to lose the contract.
I had just given resistance a most succulent desert it could ever dream possible.
I later found out that not only was the publisher a perfectly legit one, but that my book would have been included in a series that was on their best sellers list.
Now, I’m sure some of you can just about imagine my anguish. Resistance got a choice opportunity to grab me in a strangle hold to rip my heart out – all because of my own self-doubt and self-sabotage.
I tell this story because I see it as a prime depiction of the craftiness of resistance. It is very good at what it does. As I mentioned earlier, resistance is out to kill.
The emotions I felt in this scenario were that of fear – feelings of not being worthy, not deserving of becoming a published author; in other words, not entitled to realize a dream that would have fed my soul.
This is resistance. It gives no leeway.
You might be saying that I can find another publisher or self-publish, and let the past go. The lesson I learned though, was that I could not accept the incredible gift I had been offered and didn’t believe in my own worth as a writer. I let resistance win. In short, if I hadn’t learned this lesson I might have experienced the same fate over and over again in similar situations. As it is I have not fully beaten resistance – yet. I am overcoming it bit-by-bit now and I can feel resistance beginning to squirm.
A lesson learned
The key is awareness and in the difference in how I feel about what I am worth and to what I am entitled. Only I can determine that – no one else.
I now have a white board set up in my office on which I have scrolled, “Beat Resistance! Do your work!” I need to look at it every day to remind myself to do the thing I find most difficult: to make time to sit down and write. What resistance has offered me in turn, is what I need to look at within myself and this too is a gift.
Love my enemy? Sure. By becoming more versed in resistance’s bitter lies it whispers in my ear, I am seeing more of who I am not. Can’t beat that.
Joyful journeying.
Julie A. Vermette 