Hello, Old Friend - i
Pride, Pt. 1
Often in meditation I seek clarity around my resistance.
Resistance, in coachy terms is the internal obstacle that keeps us from taking a desired or required action. This can look different for everyone, although there are some that are common. I often encounter resistance when I begin moving away from my comfort zone.
There are lot’s of reasons why a person would want to remain in their zone of comfort. For one… you guessed it… the rent is cheap. I don’t know if I felt like I “owned” my life operating in my comfort zone.
be reluctant to ask for help. I can give the simplest of my own reasons which is: I like how it feels to figure things out on my own. Makes me feel smart and capable. I enjoy feeling smart and capable. When I don’t know what to do or can’t figure things out on my own, I don’t feel smart and capable. I do not enjoy that feeling. Easy Peasy Simple Mee-zy.
Without naming it, I’ve come to know this sensation as a form of anxiety in my mind and my body. Sometimes, I can identify what I don’t know and bring relief to my mind and body by asking a question.
“Hey, I’m tryin’ a new thing and I’d like to know your experience…”
“Excuse me. I’m not familiar with this. Could you show me/tell me…”
“I’m having a hard time trying to… can you help me?”
“How do I…”
The first opposition I usually face to an such an easy and accessible remedy is, Pride. How I feel about having to ask for what I want/need. Will I appear stupid for not knowing? Will I now be indebted on some level, even if just by my own perception, to the person from whom I’m seeking the assistance. My Pride resists either notion.
As my Pride resists perceived obligation of any kind that was not specifically chosen for its own gain, it also fuels my belief that I can proceed without knowledge. How many times have I listened (hearkened, as to obey) its voice only to find it my only companion and poorest ally when confronted with failure?
Alone with Pride, we wrestle. We fight over who’s to blame to the point of exhaustion. I am tired and battered while Pride is merely bruised.
As a I lay At The Point of Failure, nearly spent of internal resources, I begin to remember some of my father’s wisdom.
It takes two to maintain an argument. The longer I stay engaged with my Pride, the longer I will wrestle with it. I have to let it go.
Now Pride, at this point, is as attached to me as I am to it. We’re long lost friends who were separated from one another for far too long. When I found her, I had no idea of the effect her presence would have on my life. How she’d help me grow. Change. Become stronger. When people I thought were my friends began to disappear, she assured me that I no longer had to kiss anybody’s ass to have them around. Reminded me of my value and helped me stand on my own. I was glad to have her, but where had she led me? To this place of battle that will not end until one of us surrenders or prevails.
