Resistance is Futile

Resistance to the Mirror

“What is good? – All that heightens the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself in man.  What is bad? – All that proceeds from weakness. What is happiness? – The feeling that power increases – that a resistance is overcome…”  Nietzsche

When I stumbled across this quote by Nietzsche this morning, I thought Yes! Yes! Yes!  This is how I feel.  I have a mental power that I have never felt before. Power to me meant men in suits, the educated, political power, super powers.  I certainly never thought I would associate this kind of power to me but I have grown enormously since starting to write. So let me take you back a few months….

Whilst I was writing my first book I attended a self-defence course.  The two guys running it were menacing to look at, however by the end of the day they had shown a softer caring side.  We spent the day learning how to get out of various grips and holds. When a muscle-bound 6 ft 10 inch guy tries to drag you away and you can easily escape his clutches, the power shifts in your favour.  It was exhilarating.  The main lesson I came away with I wrote in my notebook as soon as I got into the car, ‘Don’t resist’ to be able to break away from something that holds you, you first have to go with it.  I knew this was true in many areas of my life.

I had been carrying a huge resistance to being me, this fight had to stop.  However to be able to let go of the past I knew I had to revisit it.  One step forward and two steps back.  I was still moving forward just very slowly.  At times whilst writing I was so submerged in the characters I would go to the shops as them, Harry often strutted around the ‘burbs’ of Melbourne.  At other times Milla would drag her feet along the pavement to the local supermarket and buy a huge bag of sugary sweets. Some days writing would feel as though I was sinking very slowly to the bottom of the ocean.  My arms and legs spread wide in surrender to my thoughts.  It was a calm feeling just my sub-conscious taking control. As my feet touched the sandy mud at the bottom I would rise quickly vertically, the bubbles of my exhaled breath tickling my body.  When my head broke the surface of the water, the blue of the sky was endless. I could feel every tiny sun beam penetrating the pores of my face and the water around me felt warm.  It was a hug from the universe, it was progression.

I have overcome a resistance, a resistance to being me.  I feel empowered by this and just being me is making me extremely happy. Writing has bestowed this power to me and I would love to share it with you!

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