There is a crab wedged under the rock, bubbling at me through his strange alien mouthpiece. He is the crab of my resistance.
If the rock is loose and not too large, I might try lifting it – only to see a flurry of limbs as the creature disappears into another dark crevice. Back to square one. It seems I cannot force him to come out, only tempt him. But how?
There are whole libraries of self-help books devoted to understanding and overcoming our resistance – that self-defeating stubbornness or stuckness that seems to stop us from doing what we think we should. If humans didn’t have this tendency, I would be out of a job as a coach. Instead, my clients come to me with all manner of frustrations as we try to understand what is causing the procrastination or sabotage in their lives. I understand them! They are me!
Most of the well-known approaches to resistance seem to involve lifting steadily larger rocks only for the problem to shift elsewhere. This feels increasingly taxing, particularly in the second half of life. Surely there’s an easier way to catch a crab?
ENTICING THE MUTINEER
As a child, lowering my crabline off a pier, with a tasty mussel hooked on the end, I learned to drop the weight to the seabed and wait. Within a minute there were usually a few tentative tugs on the line. Pulling the line up at this point was usually premature – if you were lucky enough to see a crab break the surface it usually dropped off.
But there came a time when the crab (or crabs!) was committed, perhaps seduced by the taste, its pincers locked round the bait, and nothing was going to make it let go. The stubbornness which previously made it hard to catch would now land it in my bucket.
I identify deeply with that crab in so many ways. He is the mutineer in me, his spirit channelled by that epic Rage Against the Machine track: “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” or as Gretchen Rubin perceptively puts it: “You can’t make me, and neither can I.”
YOU CAN’T MAKE ME
I wonder at his often self-defeating stubbornness, and sometimes despair of it in myself. But after so many years of believing he’s the saboteur, the enemy within, the devil, the entropic fucked-up part of human nature, I’m coming to see him more in terms of my shadow. Like a grizzled close-protection officer – somewhat paranoid but absolutely committed to my safety.
He is the hardest to love of the crew of navigational archetypes I’ve been assembling over the past few years: the drifter, the wayfinder, the commander and the mutineer. All have their superpowers and their flaws, but all are needed and work best in balance. The shadow side of each is transformed and supported by the superpowers of the others.
In the coming months I’m embarking on a public voyage with each of them, and the way they regularly show up in the struggles of my coaching clients, and in my own life.
SHADOW AND SUPERPOWERS
But I’m starting with the mutineer, because resistance and the perplexity that comes with it, is so often where the biggest journeys of transformation begin.
It’s relatively easy to see the mutineer’s shadow:
Pretty stubborn, and can end up in the bucket by not knowing when to let go.
Armour can get pretty tight, and growth requires vulnerability (more on that later)
Can lose sight of the bigger picture and lacks the vision of the wayfinder
Can sabotage perfectly good plans out of fear for my loss of freedom
Recently, however, I’ve been thanking my mutineer. He has always been there, stubbornly doing what he does despite my view that he should do otherwise. Increasingly, I’m grateful for his superpowers:
Protects me during times of transition, when my resilience is low.
Great at setting boundaries and making sure I keep them
Helps me say no to things I don’t have capacity for
A sceptic who asks tough questions I might otherwise ignore
Vigilant in warning me when there is a threat I need to notice
As I navigate through life, the mutineer is the first to spot if I’m going off course or off mission, or heading into a storm – and ready to take over the ship if necessary (or burn it!).
In building my Second Wind course over coming weeks I’ll be celebrating this mutinous resistance as it shows up in life, love, coaching, work and relationships.
Meanwhile, some questions:
Where does your inner mutineer show up in your life?
What project, situation or relationship brings up resistance in you?
What is your relationship with resistance in general?
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Thanks for this great piece which is helping me self-reflect.
Hmm. The stubbornness aspect and not knowing (or even understanding) whether to or, indeed, HOW to ‘let go’ in a chronically created situation is what I resonate strongly with here. And so learning to listen to my mutineer more and from this, working out what is helpful and what isn’t, feels far from straightforward. The difficult, painful process that comes from outgrowing my shell, my inevitable armour - even if it is to come back stronger - is daunting. Yet I can also imagine the release and freedom that comes with it!