"You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." I've always loved that much-repeated line from Star Trek: Next Generation and the franchises beyond it. Every Borg character with a speaking part says it at some point, I think. Could the writers have dreamed up any statement more likely to kick resistance into high gear in the average human mind...? "Don't tell me what's futile, you mish-mash of mechanical...."
And yet, I and a few million like-minded others around the globe believe in and yearn for ever-higher awareness of the ultimate assimilation: our Oneness in the Divine. Spirit within yearns and yearns for that union, as strongly as the human ego resists remembering that eternal unity. Truly, resistance is not futile, at all! It very effectively keeps us separated from and unconscious of the truth of who we are.
Until it doesn't.
Even when the little human ego mind catches glimpses of this forgotten truth and, just for a second or two, we know that we are One, "quickly we will forget to remember" (Holly Near, Planet Called Home). We return almost instantly to the sleeping state of human consciousness...and go back to resisting!
Hey. I don't judge; it's just what we humans do...until we don't.
I had elevated resistance to a level that was part art, part evil-genius science. My life was so enmeshed with--brimming over with--resistance, that my little human mind had actually begun to struggle and wrestle in resistance to my own resistance. You gotta laugh, really. I was really, really good at resistance and it worked for all the purposes to which I put it. Until it didn't.
Essential to attaining this new, "no-resist" phase of life was my work to mine a treasure chest full of the 7 Childhood Treasures. Brimming over now with Trust, Independence, Faith, Negotiation, Vision, Compromise, and Acceptance, I have been using them as tools, slowly and surely, to crack open and pull away big chunks of my dual carapaces of defense and protection. (Thank you human ego, for the extreme protection for so long; I no longer need it.)
Suddenly, without final warning, I was ready. In what felt like one easy opening of tightly curled fingers, I surrendered the inner, thinner shell of resistance. It's just gone.
I know. I also feel tiny niggles of doubt that boldly ask, "Is this real??" and "Is this permanent or temporary?" My strategy is to ignore those little niggles, in favor of hearing the glorious music of a surrendered, unresisting Life filling me and the universe.
It's a miracle, really, that's it's suddenly gone, because resistance was killing me. Literally.
What did I resist? Well, what didn't I? Chiefly, my resistance was to anything you wanted me to do that I didn't already think was a good idea, plus, you know, just for grins, we'll toss in resisting anything that might be good for me: might make me healthier, more energized, less racked by pain.... It was a very toddler-ish point of view, really.
No! I do it MINE way!!
Unfortunately, "mine way" included lots of sitting very still, alone in my home, reading and watching TV or Netflix. There were moments when I thought I could feel and hear myself slowly calcifying, turning to stone, as I sat and quietly resisted. Movement. Interaction. Engagement. Life.
I recently realized, with deep sadness, that this lifelong pattern included resisting those who showed an interest in me, in being close to me. You want to see me, the real me; see beyond the intentional face of my values and the occasional glimpse behind my various masks? I might have let you in from time to time, but my overall pattern was...I Resist You! You want to see my authentic emotional life and hear my honest responses to your questions? Okay, just enough to let you know I could, and then...resist! Want to know that I am there for you when you need me? Resist! You want me to fully lower my guard and trust that you are not a shark in the waters into which I have just bled? Resist!
Yeah...this form of resistance isn't futile at all. Resistance is simple to do and very effective. Trust me! As a preschool teacher many decades ago, I learned that passive resistance is nearly impossible to overcome! Can I force a three-year-old to pick up and put away toys? Well, kind of...but it's still so much me doing the work that it defeats the higher preschool goal of developing an independent and proactive adult human.
Why do you think that nonviolent, passive resistance has been such an effective tool for protest for so long? Quite simply, anybody can do it, anywhere, anytime. Even threat of death will not move some of us, so passionately committed are we to whatever we oppose and resist. That was me, ready to die rather than just surrender and say, "Okay, fine! All right, all ready!! UNCLE! Yes to Life, okay??? YES!"
I am getting fully acquainted with my resistance now, just as it all slips away. It's a bit like watching a multi-colored river pouring off of me, as if the crown of my head is a mountain spring. I can tell you that the interpersonal form of my resistance I just described is only one small drop in a massive flood of resistance; it was just the most tragic. I am already beginning to make amends where I can. And to grieve, briefly and with honoring, the lost opportunities behind me.... But not for long!
Today, I simply say, with a confident finality, "No more." I am here. I am present. My heart is open. No more resistance. It's gone.
The other day, I was remembering about and describing Alice McLerran's book, The Mountain that Loved a Bird. The original, with tissue-paper collage illustrations by Eric Carle, has been a favorite of mine since it was published in 1985. "There was once a mountain made of bare stone. It stood alone in the middle of a desert plain. No plant grew on its hard slopes, nor could any animal, bird, or insect live there." That's how I have often felt, sitting and turning to stone, alone in my resistance.
I used to read Mountain that Loved aloud to groups of women, like my incest survivors' support group. I could never get far without leaking a bit, allowing a few hot tears to seep past my resistance to vulnerability, shake my voice a bit, and slide sneakily down my cheeks. Also resisting the release of a dammed-up river of grief, I hid from everyone a place that hurt so hard, so very deep within me. Whenever I got to the point in the story where the mountain cracks open and a gushing spring of tears flows from its heart, I almost couldn't go on, and still maintain my own stony veneer.
And yet, maintain it I did. Resistance is not futile, but a hugely powerful force. Until it isn't. Until a subtle uncurling release surrenders it.
And never doubt this: resistance is not your friend, not your ally, not a force for good. Yes, it is easy, simple, and highly effective...at keeping you believing the life-killing lie that you are alone.
Have faith! Your time to open will come, just as it did to the mountain. Your brittle veneer of resistance can CRACK! open in an instant, like a butterfly chrysalis that has become too small to contain the glory growing within it. Did you know that, when a chrysalis opens, you can hear an audible little breath of a pop! if you're close enough and quiet enough?
When the shell of resistance cracks open, I think it releases the breath of Creation, you know? Each time one of us surrenders, a little puff of Divine inspiration explodes into the world to enliven us all...more oxygen, more creativity, more connection, more Love, more Life for everyone!!
Right now, I am a bit like that newly emerged butterfly. I feel the remnants of my former shell in my fingers. Panting in wonder at the newness of myself, I wait for my wings to dry before I take off into the sky.
Dr. Scott's website is in revision and sadly out of date. Watch this blog for information on: 1) her weekend intensive this fall, Live a Sovereign Life through the 7 Childhood Treasures; 2) the expected October release of her CD, Divine Downloads; and 3) a planned 2017 publication of her book on the 7 Childhood Treasures.