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Years ago, I read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. As a critically acclaimed, prolific writer, he of course offered lots of helpful guidance around the process of making things, whether that’s writing, painting, or another creative endeavor – and what is life, if not a creative endeavor?
In his book, Pressfield explores the concept of creative “resistance” and how it impacts creativity and productivity, defining it as the internal force that prevents people from pursuing their goals or any meaningful venture.
A military man’s relationship with creative “resistance”
Through the lens of war, Mr. Pressfield arrives at many very poignant conclusions about art and its creation over the course of the book. While I don’t ultimately disagree with any of the points he makes, because the philosophy of the book operates from a soldier’s perspective, much of the wisdom he’s spitting comes out with a kinda heavy, cut-throat flavor.
“In my younger days dodging the draft, I somehow wound up in the Marine Corps. There’s a myth that Marine training turns baby-faced recruits into bloodthirsty killers. Trust me, the Marine Corps is not that efficient. What it does teach, however, is a lot more useful. The Marine Corps teaches you how to be miserable. This is invaluable for an artist.
Marines love to be miserable. Marines derive a perverse satisfaction in having colder chow, crappier equipment, and higher casualty rates than any outfit of dogfaces, swab jockeys, or flyboys, all of whom they despise. Why? Because these candy-asses don’t know how to be miserable.
The artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation.The artist must be like that Marine. He has to know how to be miserable. He has to love being miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.”
– Stephen Pressfield, The War of Art
Pretty brutal, no?
Well, unless that sounds exciting to you, and you see misery as the only path towards redemption or worthiness, then you can probably stop reading this now and just go read the book. There’s lots of goodies in there:
- “Resistance obstructs movement only from a lower sphere to a higher. It kicks in when we seek to pursue a calling in the arts, launch an innovative enterprise, or evolve to a high station morally, ethically, or spiritually.”
- “It’s not the writing part that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is Resistance.”
- “Resistance by definition is self-sabotage.”
- “Resistance is the most toxic force on the planet.”
- “Resistance is not a peripheral opponent. Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. Resistance is the enemy within.”
- “We feed [Resistance] with power by our fear of it. Master that fear and we conquer Resistance.”
- “Fear doesn’t go away. The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.”
Pressfield personifies creative Resistance as a powerful, malevolent force that exists to destroy or derail creative efforts, rooted in fear, self-doubt, procrastination, and a variety of other “self-sabotaging” behaviors. He describes it as a universal experience, that anyone who has ever tried to create something meaningful or take on a challenge has encountered resistance. It’s the voice in your head that tells you to procrastinate, that you’re not good enough, that you can always start tomorrow.
Sure, that’s all well and fine I suppose, but here’s my main question – is this “code of necessity which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day” actually, truly, a necessity? 🌞
I would like to offer some alternative perspectives that don’t require battling anything.
Two battle-breeding assumptions
Now, death and transformation are deeply fertile parts of the creative cycle – not to be avoided by any means (in fact, let’s embrace death and transformation!) – and, any belief system which operates out of a “kill the Enemy” (or “Devil, or “Other”) ideology is undoubtedly a very effective means of arriving to this particular phase of the cycle. In that way, war can be viewed as extremely creative and helpful and life-giving. From a soldier’s perspective, Resisting your Resistance is the only holy path.
Here’s the thing though: the notion of “resisting your Resistance” relies on two assumptions.
First, you assume Resistance is asking you to fight; you perceive it as a threat, or perhaps at best it’s a worthy opponent. If Resistance is literally the worst thing ever, sure, it’s very much “worth” fighting against it. The key word there is “if.” How do we know that’s true? That’s just something someone made up. The truth is, when you call Resistance “bad,” you are the one who gave it that identity, and you are the one to give it any power it has over you in that identity. And you know what? Maybe Resistance didn’t want that at all. Maybe Resistance was just trying to chill 🤔
Second, you assume that “fighting” or “resisting” is the only way to meet Resistance. You see something that apparently wants to fight with you, and so then you run straight into the charge of fighting back. No other potential course of action… okay, cool. So you win, and then Resistance dies, I guess, for today. A war mentality is an entirely valid method of dissolving the “Other,” in this case “Resistance” – at least temporarily.
Why doesn’t creative “resistance” just die already?
We all know energy is neither created nor destroyed, it only transforms. Whenever anything dies it just decomposes and comes back another way. But if our definition of the thing doesn’t also die, that creates kind of a funny pattern.
When you assign something the identity of “Enemy” and you kill it, it will just come back again – as your enemy – some other way, because the definition you created of the “Enemy” still exists. The “Other,” the “Devil,” the “Enemy,” (I use these interchangeably) as you know it is still alive in your mind, heart and body exactly as you defined it before. So naturally, it just comes right back again. It might have a new set of curtains or a fresh coat of paint, but you’re going to see the same Devil again and again because you don’t take the time to understand the Devil. It is your definition of the Devil that must also die and transform for true evolution to take place 👹
Ultimately, whether you are fighting something outside yourself or inside yourself, it makes no difference – it’s your relationship to the thing you are fighting that determines how energy moves and changes shape. Nothing can truly transform, grow or evolve without understanding, which is rooted in connection.
So when all you know how to do is reject and fight, you get into a deliciously vicious, and unending, cycle of fighting. And that creates exactly the hell of war Mr. Pressfield is talking about.
Is anyone else tired?
Humans can find reasons to fight and train and battle and die and conquer and vanquish all day and all night for all of eternity if we want, and sure, that’s all well and fine (and bloody), but I have a few questions:
- Aren’t you tired?
- What if Resistance was a helper or a friend, and not malicious at all?
- What would it be like to bridge, rather than sever, the gap between the Self and Resistance (or “Other”)?
- What fruits might that exploration yield?
What if Resistance wanted to teach us something? What if it wanted to be seen, touched, felt, understood? What if it wanted to be close to us, so it can bring us exactly where we want to go? 🕯
What if we approached Resistance with curiosity, with gentle attention? What if Resistance was lover, a child, or some intriguing animal we’ve spotted in the wild? What would it be like to flirt with Resistance, to seduce it? To wonder at all of its marvelous and strange complexity, to adore it in all of its stubborn, sharp and yet somehow cuddly glory?
Personally, these are the questions I seek to ask and answer in my life and creative endeavors. Curious what has come out of that rabbit hole? Head over this way 🐰
To Mr. Pressfield and all Soldiers in the War of Art: I salute you. Instead of slaying dragons, I will be over here making friends with them and letting them teach me their ways. I’ll learn how to breathe my own kind of fire and we can fly the skies together, in perfectly-roasted-marshmallow bliss.
Dear Reader…
Where do you experience creative Resistance in your life or projects?
Does fighting with Resistance stoke your creative flames?
If not, how do you engage with it?
What sparks your creativity, and what stamps it out?
If it’s in your pleasure, please comment below!
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