I always know when I’m resisting or blocking something, because I get these amazing highs of contempt and rage.
Usually it’s around learning and growth, and I’ve been experiencing loads of resistance this week in getting started on Christine’s e-course Way of the Monk, Path of the Artist, which I signed up for a while back and which began last Monday.
As the start of the course drew near, and was then launched, I welcomed my dear friends contempt and rage back into my life. Not contempt at the course, you understand, at everything else, like fireworks shooting off in all directions.
And this is where we get to the caffeine analogy. I find contempt amazingly energising! I love it, it really makes me feel vibrant and alive and awake and focused. For a little shining moment… and then there’s the crash.
It’s invaluable as a signpost, because what we’re resisting is often where we find the most growth. And of course now I’ve actually started working with Christine’s course materials, I’m finding them wonderful, empowering, enriching. Like the slow release of energy from really nourishing food rather than that caffeine high.
What are your red flag signals that you’re resisting growth?
Image by Refracted Moments
Elsewhere:
Talking of the path of the artist, I love this stunning image by Alice Popkorn, one of my favourite photographic artists, and in another beautiful image, Kate shares with us the glow of ordinary things. I think there’s a lovely symmetry between these two photographs.
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{ 19 comments… read them below or add one }
My, my…
This is a perfectly timed, astutely accurate post, dear Tess!
It’s amazing to me how I can be in the midst of a growth cycle, with all its creativity and enthusiasm ~ and then one occurrence or comment will come along and slam on the brakes. Crash! Right back into anger and confusion (or as you say, contempt and rage).
(In this case, the ‘resisting growth’ part seems to signal that I’m not willing to let go of some of the things/people associated with the ‘old’ me. This growth cycle will indeed require releasing certain aspects of my life ~ and I have not embraced that ‘pain’ just yet.)
Thank you for hitting me between the eyes with this today!
sorry… can’t relate to this post at all. hahahhahahahhahaha
you have described contempt so well, it/he/she is a very close cousin to one of my favorite energizers – resentment – and yes, the crash is hard. fortunately i am not letting it take me quite so high these days and so only get a little bump with the fall rather than major broken bones.
resistance, hmmmm. did i not witness a bit of that from you (or rather you from yourself) earlier today, my hospitable friend? (btw – if i’m being smug here, i’m certain i will pay for it very soon, but i couldn’t resist
.) xoxoxo
contempt and rage… I will have to watch out for these. Brief fits of rage, I have, but usually at myself. Contempt? I grew up with contempt — made me feel like the slime of a snail. But do I cover up these traits under others? I will have to be more watchful.
What I discovered when I chose the word ‘lightness’ is that I felt suddenly extraordinarily heavy — in my emotions. In fact, I went right into desolation. My feeling then is that my ‘shadow’ is kicking back, not quite wanting to allow me to go where I feel I need to go.
Thank you for these two words. Who knows? Maybe they are companions I have not noticed.
P.S: Thank you for mentioning the two other artists. Breath-taking.
My personal red flags around growth are sudden depression and resentment. I have lived with clinical depression most of my life, but the kind that is a red flag is the kind that is far more sudden. I’m going along just fine and then *wham* I’m curled up in a ball sobbing my eyes out thinking that I’ll never be able to function again. Then I start resenting the very thing that I’ve come up against, or even invited in, to bring a fresh direction or breeze. It seems crazy on the outside, but it certainly is awful on the inside of it (especially when I don’t recognize that it is happening!) Thanks for your post about the difficult things today!
Ahh, ye olde contempt and rage. Yeah, I understand those. How uncomfortable those spaces are. But you’re right – so much learning and growth there.
The hardest parts for me are understanding and accepting my contempt and rage of the past few years as signals that I have not been ready to go somewhere yet. It’s wisdom in recognising the difference though because most of the time those two little beasties are just high order resistance to something that is gonna burst into bloom
That course sounds wonderful, Tess. Enjoy
interesting. isn’t anger a painful armour which we don in order to hide our vulnerability?
here’s my red flag ~ i begin to feel trapped in a very narrow comfort zone which fear has delineated. the wisest part of me knows that i feel discomfort and the overwhelming urge to escape in response to perceived vulnerability. you may know this perceived vulnerability as humility. yes, humility ~ that harbinger of growth and learning.
great post Tess and wonderful to hear your process behind the class work. I find myself often resisting and resisting and then suddenly I remember to witness my resistance rather than resisting it and it shifts everything. When I approach my resistance with curiosity – wondering why it has shown up – it always leads me to rich and juicy places.
great post, tess….and I loved Lucy’s first sentence! Me too! xo
@Lisa: yes, it is this slamming on of the brakes, almost as a defence against the letting go – you put it very well.
@Lucy: hahaha indeed! Yes, I think resentment is another key flag for many people, as Sulwyn points out. Er, no, you got another convoluted piece of what passes for my personality – the piece around being too aware of others’ opinions. I thought you’d expect me to be one of those contributing so I thought I’d say upfront that I wouldn’t be…
@Claire: I think everyone experiences these undertows differently, the precise emotions that flag up resistance for me might not be the same for you. We all seem to suffer from these crashes though, as you beautifully describe with your heaviness, and I think you are absolutely right, your shadow is kicking back.
@Sulwyn: thanks for commenting, and isn’t it horrible when this happens, even when you know it won’t be forever, let alone when it takes awhile to recognise?
@Sue: this triggered a really useful thought for me – that I might genuinely not be able to “go there” yet and that sometimes that’s actually OK. Thank you.
@Roxanne: how very interesting, and what a great description you give of this overwhelming urge to escape.
@Christine: you’re right, and I was able to notice my resistance this week, and it was interesting. Still didn’t get me started until very late though!
@diantha: that’s what I love about us – humans I mean – this mutual recognition.
Anger, contempt, and the psychology of enmity reminds me of William Blake, particularly given the exquisite painting that illustrates this poem. There is such an ominous feeling about Blake’s drawing, and his words give voice to the anguish of rage and the power it has had in my life, in so many lives.
A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
William Blake
Such a powerful poem Diana, I hadn’t known it before. The word you use, ominous, is exactly right. Watered and fed – it reminds me of an old story I repeated very early on in the life of this blog, here: http://www.anchormast.com/2007/04/16/wolves/
There is a complicity in both of the posts by Tess and Diana, with the casual confession of unkind things, which we read with a shock in the poem by Blake.
I don’t know where to take this from there. I have a feeling that Diana is speaking as a healer, her post certainly helped me to connect the dots. Tess’ post is actually a catharsis, which relaxes all our secret guilts trips. But it may be that we all need to think about owning up to our better selves too, rather than confessing our supposed failures. Tess could as easily confess her incredible kindness of heart and her deep sensitivity to the fragility of her friends (which I herewith personally vouch for!)
What a powerful discussion you all have been having! There is so much to ponder and chew and digest a little at a time here. I may be back later.
For now, I’m thinking about my own contempt and rage, what sparks it. I know a big part of it, if not the root, is a sense of powerlessness. And yes, it comes when I’m blocking something I don’t want to embrace. But the immediate red flag that you’re asking about, Tess, for me is a sinking feeling. That’s the only way I can think to describe it right now.
Wow, these are really good things for me to be thinking about. I will continue to. Thank you for posting this!
I love my readers, you create such fabulous conversations here!
. I certainly think we should own our giftedness and our better selves. Perhaps a post on that soon…
@kigen: thank you
@Polli: I had a strong visual reaction to your “sinking feeling” – as if I could see you disappearing into a vat of fog. And I think that lack of power – or control maybe – is a problem for many of us.
The term “a vat of fog” is making me smile.
To continue with your caffeine analogy, the vat of fog is like the half-inch of days old coffee congealed in the bottom of the cup.
I’m late in coming to this little espresso shot of wisdom, but it is just as steamy and true a week later, promise!
I am riding high and falling flat in constant cycles every few days. I always know which direction I am headed based on what thoughts get stuck in my head while I am in the shower. Am I making plans and smiling at possibilities and singing silly songs to Moira who lies in her Moses basket on the other side of the curtain? Or, am I wounded dog chasing her tail, thinking over every time my mother-in-law looked at me cross eyed or analyzing why a close family friend still has not sent a note to acknowledge the baby’s birth. You can tell which days I am trying to have more of…
Marisa, welcome to our foggy double tall fresh ground discussion! I hadn’t spotted that one, but I do the same thing. Looking back, if I haven’t noticed the lovely scent of my soap in the shower it will be a bad day. Maybe if I consciously notice it will be a good one. And I wish you loads of those.