The Resistance is Real (and Hairy)
Ever notice how we say one thing and do the total opposite? (Rowdy Rathore fans huh?) Like, we’ll swear we’re finally going to read that book that’s been on our bookshelf for a year… and then we rewatch Friends, we’ve already seen five times. Or we’ll talk about how we really want to write (I am guilty of this btw) , or start a book club, or finally crack into that ambitious 800-pager: then somehow, it’s bedtime and we’ve done none of that.
It’s not just with books, of course. It’s everywhere. We say we want to get healthier, then order fries with mayo. Have you tried this though? truffle fries with mayo are da bomb, and super filling. Okay back to the topic before I open my uber eats app and make use of the technology which gives me my food at home. We say we want to get ahead at work, but bail on the meeting where ideas are actually being thrown around. We want the result, but kind of ghost the process.
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because her lizard brain told her to.
- Seth Godin
And when we do see someone just quietly doing the thing, like Stephen King publishing one book after another , (he literally once used a different name because he had exhausted the limit of being published per year, yeah, true story) or a reader who casually finishes five novels a week (tonnes of book tubers) - it feels unreal. Like, how are they not sabotaging themselves?
That, my friend, is the lovely little monster in all of us. Some call it fear, some call it procrastination, Steven Pressfield calls it “The Resistance,” and honestly? That one hits home. It’s that weird internal voice that pops up right when you’re about to do something meaningful, whispering, “Hmm… maybe later,” or “Is this even good enough?” And boy obviously it knows you. It exactly knows the precise combination of words that will make you stop. It plays the right strings to make you not do that thing. And the weirdest part, it feels so right.
That voice isn’t random. It comes from this old, primal part of our brain, basically our inner caveman whose job is to keep us “safe.” Safe from risk, change, judgment… basically all the stuff that comes with actually doing the thing we care about.
It shows up strongest when we’re closest to what we want. About to send that email? Start a new chapter? Publish something personal? go for that run? That’s when the resistance yells the loudest. And yeah, it sucks.
But here’s the plot twist: it doesn’t go away. Ever. Our job isn’t to defeat it once and for all like some final boss. It’s just to notice it, and then keep going anyway. You don’t fight the lizard brain (yes, Seth Blog calls it that, you should check out his blogs https://seths.blog), you learn to ignore its very persuasive nonsense. Being aware is literally more than half the job done. Wanna run? make the caveman run with you, he will get tired and die eventually. Wanna write? Start writing about the caveman itself (see what I did there?)
So, the next time you catch yourself talking about all the things you say you want to do, maybe pick up that book. Or start that page. Or send the invite. The resistance will be there. But so what? We’ve read braver stories than this. You dont have to slay the resistance, just acknowledge its presence and it goes away. Try it.
