For some reason, as I start to write again about resistance, my mind conjures the image of a man from behind, a laborer. He has taken off his shirt and his back is muscled but conveys weariness. Yes, I like men’s bodies, but there’s a specific reason for this image. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s something I haven’t thought of yet. I know that.
Shortly after I returned to America from England to continue my studies in acting, I met Pierre, a director, who was my dear friend for many years until he died of AIDS. He is never far from my thoughts – in fact I’m in the middle of writing a poem about how he furthered my appreciation of Samuel Beckett and helped me to ground myself eventually in the physical theatre work of Jerzy Grotowski. Very early in our relationship, Pierre introduced me to an acting teacher, who was proficient in Method Acting. From Pierre and his friend, the acting teacher, I began to learn how to focus my mind on what my body was experiencing and from there segue into memories and meditative patterns that are useful creatively. And later, much later, I found ways to use this ‘meditative process’ to bridge over into whatever character I was working on. Over at least half a lifetime, I continued to refine this process, so it works for writing as well as acting – in fact, it has changed my entire perspective on life.
But right now I’m concentrating on how one can use this process to avoid the fatal interference of entrenched resistance. I say fatal, because resistance can put one in a maze, running in circles, clueless as to the direction one should go to ‘get inside’ where the creative urge can find its way. The only way out is by escaping into another activity. And if one is continuously sabotaged by this mechanism, time is lost and one can’t move forward.
So, what to do? A moment ago, as I began working on this Blog, I didn’t try to think out how I would begin. However, all this week the continuation of writing about ‘resistance’ from last week has been in the back of my mind. My body/mind connection has been gestating the subject, and today when I knew I would write it this evening, I’ve been careful not to try to ‘think’ it out so I could ease into the process with a relaxed body and hopeful mind. Just before I started, I had a little ‘dawdle’ at the computer with e-mails and almost bought something on-line, but gently disengaged myself so I could start before the time arrived when I would absolutely have to start cooking dinner.
And I was rewarded by the image of a man’s muscled back conveying strength and weariness. The fact that I was able to stay relaxed allowed me to ‘read’ this visual cue so it would transform itself into what I actually wanted to say. The association of that image is positive for me, and I think it has to do with the paintings of Thomas Hart Benson, who often depicted steady, patient laborers, working long hours at physically demanding jobs. Therefore, the qualities these men possess make me visualize them in particular. But why not women’s bodies? Are they not also capable of patience and hard work? Apparently, my unconscious puts the men ahead in this regard. Men from my particular background, who by the way are not generally laborers, have the ability to work more steadily than the women, who are apt to be spoiled, rather the way I am. But the logic of this intuitive process is often anything but logical, unless you subject it to rigorous analysis - subject for another Blog. For me, right now, I had to relax enough to allow the image of a man’s back to come to the surface of my mind and to identify it as the ‘way in’ to writing about resistance. In other words, whatever causes you to feel strongly and consistently can effectively break down your resistance to taking action. Patience and strength in the face of hardship is what I admire in the laborers. That gets me going, and I seek to emulate it, and although I don’t work with my hands – except for cooking – I can transfer over their application of ‘physical’ strength to a similar endeavor on my part in the ‘mental’ arena.
Another way I have found to overcome my extreme fear of failure and resistance to ‘mental effort that I think is beyond my ability’ is by subjugating myself to a regimen of daily exercise – and I do not use the word ‘subjugating’ lightly. Unfortunately, I do not enjoy energetic movement, aside from a brisk walk in the country on a fall day, an option which is not often unavailable to me. But aerobic exercise keeps me fit and as I grow older I consider it absolutely necessary to my well-being both mentally and physically. The fact that I can overcome my repugnance to exerting myself in the physical arena makes the effort available to ‘transfer over’ into the scarier areas of creative endeavor. And believe me, concerted effort in the mental area is much more difficult for me to successfully box myself into than the discomfort and boredom of physical exercise!
But then, why on earth would one want to do something one has to ‘box oneself into?’ Well, when I succeed, to be really corny about it, I soar on the wings of fulfillment. I am certain that I am doing what I am meant to do, when I engage in this process I’ve just described. The high that I get from buying a new outfit, or even going to a play/film that I enjoy, is not the same. The buying of an object I crave is like satisfying hunger with junk food, and the pleasure derived from experiencing a work of art conceived by someone else can be compared to eating an organic meal. But much as I like feeding my body, conceiving something creative from my own self feeds my soul. When I allow resistance to stop me, I’m not even sure I have a soul…
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