Long ago I learned that the moments when I feel resistance hold the keys to healing and freedom. Reactionary emotions such as defensiveness and anger are the gatekeepers to the places inside of me that I need to explore. PTSD is one of the best gurus I have in this respect. If I ever wanted to live in the present moment free of fear, I needed to develop and utilize Witness Consciousness in moments of anxiety, confusion, and terror. Upon experiencing a trigger – and sometimes a subsequent panic attack – I learned how to witness my emotions and physical reactions so that I could determine whether the perceived threat was real, a non-threat, or unknown. But touching into a trigger is easier said than done. Both the body and the mind want to literally run screaming from the experience by flight or dissociation. It takes a great deal of courage and discipline to stay in that place of panic, light a torch, and go in search of answers.
Everyone experiences resistance, although not always on this level. The struggle does not always feel like a matter of life and death. Instead, it may present as shallow breathing, fidgeting, or procrastination. We all do it. We all resist something – emotions, responsibilities, communication, relationships. But it takes awareness to recognize resistance, and it requires commitment, courage, and discipline to dive beneath the protective behaviors to uncover the cause. And then, the real work begins.
I recently started going to an acupuncturist. She was a friend of a friend and is now my friend. She offered to work with me because she could sense that my soul is calling out for energy work. I was ecstatic at the prospect of adding another instrument to my toolbox of healing, but had no idea what to expect.
Fifteen minutes into the first appointment, I experienced resistance. She hadn’t even whipped out the “pins” yet. We discussed our intentions for our work, agreeing to focus on finding me Love. I vaguely described past and present situations, describing what I considered to be patterns in my relationships – both romantic and platonic. And then she spoke. Her assessment of my current relationship to Self and to the men in my life felt like a kick to the chest. I could feel myself rearing up, preparing for a fight, going on the defense. My posture stiffened, and my breath constricted. I checked out for a brief moment or two. These were signs of resistance I experienced before. Upon recognizing the alarm bells sounding, I took a few deep breaths, and continued to listen to her approximation of the situation. I sat my rage on the backburner, allowing it to reduce to a simmer and then cool.
The resistance returned when I found myself on the table, feeling the pins pierce my skin and remain there for what felt like days. Some itched. Some hurt. Some I didn’t even notice. I experienced a perplexing emotional release of maniacal laughter, but remained motionless, lest any movement increase the sensation surrounding the pins. This intense reaction, she said, was a resistance to intimacy and was indicative of the intense boundaries I built around my Self physically and emotionally. I heard that, and it resonated. I resisted the pins, but not the observation.
By the end of the session, I was feeling much more relaxed and wanted to curl up on the floor of her office and nap the rest of the day away. But alas, it was time to drive home and for the real work to begin. The residual anger of her observations of my relationships would not fall away. So, I dove into this anger, this defensiveness, for the entire week leading up to our next appointment. What I realized was that my emotional reaction was triggered by a sense of untruth in what she said, but also by the knowing that she was not all that far off base. She touched upon a deep-seeded fear – being undesirable, unlovable – and that I bore some responsibility for any experience that led to my current state of loneliness. (When I said it felt like a kick to the chest, I meant it.) I did some “fact-checking” to tease apart what felt true to me, what connected with my intuition. I realized that I was terrified that this diagnosis was applicable to all relationships throughout my life; I failed at love and failed at life. I feared that I was and forever would be undesirable and unlovable and that it was all my fault.
However, my “fact-checking” mission showed me that while my fear had some foundation in experience, that experience was not true across the board. While reflection allowed me to name the missteps and potential hazards, it also shone a light on a few fulfilling, healthy partnerships. My resistance was a beacon guiding me towards the truth of my experience.
Our goal is to find me some Love. Unabashed, completely available, freely given, strong, passionate, joyous Love. A beloved that is worthy of a goddess such as I. But the work remains. Part of this work is to recognize patterns and clear them from my programming. As it turns out, there is nothing inherently undesirable or unlovable about me, but I seem to have a penchant for “choosing” the wrong dudes. (See how I did the quotation marks there? I’m resisting the idea that I actually choose to do this. So guess what I am currently exploring…) That initial fear held me back from exploring the complicated and messy truth of my heart, and the resistance it bred locked me into some unhealthy patterns I’m only beginning to break free of. I’m grateful for the process to begin, and I’d like for you to join me.
Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to develop awareness to resistance on your mat. Notice when you become fidgety during meditation or in a pose. Watch when you feel the need to take a bathroom break during a series of planks. And recognize when you distract yourself from the sensations in your body during a dreaded pose by thinking about making dinner or singing a song in your head.
Then, go deeper.
Ask questions. “Do I hate this pose because I am afraid of what it shows me?” “Is the exact placement of my prop vital to the safety and expression of this pose, or am I distracting myself from what I’m feeling?” “Do I truly not have time for savasana, or am I avoiding my Self?”
The mat is a mirror for how we interact with our Selves in the “real world”. It reflects our desires, fears, obstacles, and limitless potential. And if we are courageous, committed, and disciplined, it can also be a laboratory in which we experiment with behavior and emotion so that we can break free of old patterns that no longer serve us. Then, we are free to experience joy, love and grace.
Resistance – if you want to grow up – is futile.