I wake up in an I-don’t-want-to-do-anything mood this morning.
I push through my morning routine. I do my set of shoulder and neck stretches. There is a flash of “that feels good” when I finish my last stretch, but it’s not enough to crack my mood.
I feel, as I eat breakfast, the desire to remain here at the table, reading. The book is good, Closer To The Heart by my favourite fantasy writer Mercedes Lackey. I do not want to put the book down, but this is more than desire to read a good book. I am resisting moving into my studio and beginning my creative day.
I love drawing and writing. Yesterday I played in the small sketchbook I received from the Brooklyn Art Library’s Sketchbook Project 2018. No resistance showed up.
Today, though, there is a brick wall, ten feet high with “I don’t want to” stamped all over it. I’m on this side. My drawing and writing are on the other.
I know the trick. Find the door in the wall. If no door, then a ladder. Maybe a bulldozer (I like that). Or maybe I need help.
Asking for help is never my first choice. Sometimes it should be. Okay, help it is.
I reluctantly drop my book mark at page 148 of Mercedes’ book, leave the kitchen table, and move to my studio. I take my morning pages book from the pile of papers just to the right of me. I pull a Mickey Mouse pencil from the collection sitting in the Starbucks grande frappaccino cup. Morning pages are my first and biggest help. I’m ready.
I start where I am. Kicking my toes against this brick wall of resistance. Leaning my back against it and muttering, “This feels crappy.” And then adding, “You’re in my way.”
I built this wall. I’m in my own way.
I begin wondering what it is I don’t want to do, that has put me in this mood. Continue reading “Resisting Resistance”