Resistance is the Gatekeeper to Mastery

But if you know it’s coming you won’t let it stop you.

My favorite breakdown of the road to mastery is by Mastin Kipp, a functional life coach well versed in emotional trauma and how it holds us back from actualizing our goals. He says there are 3 levels to mastery: Excitement, Resistance, and then Mastery.

What I like about this is it’s super simple. Simplicity can often be undervalued in our “nothing is ever enough” culture. But I think it’s a secret weapon in actualizing our goals. Simplicity is putting one foot in front of the other, doing only the very next thing, it’s not looking down the road at the million things it may or may not have to do. Simplicity doesn’t get overwhelmed and quit, because it has exactly the amount in front of it to accomplish what it needs. To someone with “I’m never working hard enough” syndrome (hi!), simplicity can almost feel like doing nothing, or even lazy, because that’s how we’re used to operating. But the trick to simplicity, when you slowly move towards your goal, is you’ll look back one day and look at all those little simple things you did and how you turned that into a big thing. You might even be well on your way to mastery of said thing. So what does each one of these stages look like?

1) Excitement — this is the easiest and most fun one, and really satisfies the instant gratification part of us. This is the “I’ve got this idea” phase, the “it starts on Monday”, or “I’m really doing it this time”. It feels good to make a decision on something, to have a goal. Maybe you even, in an act to stick to it, make an announcement about it (this is tricky, by the way, because there’s a part of our brain that, when we make a big announcement about what we’re going to do, thinks we’ve just accomplished it and we can lose our own motivation to do the thing, because we’ve already received the “reward” of praise). But either way, you’re excited about a new venture in your life. A lot of us only know how to live in this area. We bounce around from new idea to new idea, and don’t understand why we aren’t making any progress. I’ll quote Mastin here, “You’ve tried everything but sticking with it”. That’s because the next step is the hardest:

2) Resistance — This is where the real work starts. The excitement has dissipated. And it’ll look a little different for each of us but you could be wondering why you wanted to go down this road in the first place. You’re thinking maybe you’re not actually that interested in this thing anymore, maybe it’s just not for you. You’re feeling like you’re not even that good at it. Maybe you’re thinking you should be a natural at this, or it should come easily. So you think you’ve picked wrong, you’ll choose something easier next time. You find a million reasons why you shouldn’t do it. But just stop for a moment, and breath, and realize this is the crucial next step. This is what resistance feels like, and you can let it make or break you. Because growth starts when discomfort sets in. It’s time to, at best, be friends with resistance, or at the very least know that it’s coming so you can be prepared for it. At least that’s what I’m telling myself, because I’m currently in this moment right now:

When I decide to start something I have to make it as simple as possible. This is me dealing with literally one thing at a time. And it’s embarrassing to admit, but it usually starts with me dealing with my overactive imagination creating delusions of grandeur, and the massive anxiety that ensues. For example, I’ve decided to take on the challenge of writing a play. And part of my excitement phase is pretending like I’m going to write the next Hamilton. I mean how exciting and impressive does that sound in my head? Until I actually sit down to write and the pressure I’ve created for myself puts me into a performance anxiety-induced mess unable to get any real work done. So my next step is disassociating with the part that feels like it needs to be amazing at something right out of the gate. I have to create some room for error. I have to become friends with maybe not being so great at something I love. And decide I no longer will be a victim to the unhelpful voices in my head, and you don’t have to be either.

So here I am deep in the second stage. I’m in the middle of the third draft, and it’s still really hard. I’ll have an idea in my head but when I write it down it’s either confusing, overly complicated, or unclear. I read other plays for reference, only to then be unable to get the other writer’s voice out of my head. I wonder if it’s all too hard, if I should give up. I’ll go online and read about Judd Apatow or some other equally successful writer, decide it’s too late in the game for me, and feel sorry for myself. Then I’ll read a story about someone like J.K. Rowling, feel inspired, and decide it’s never to late.

And after all that I’ll realize I still haven’t written anything, immediately turn off my Wifi on my computer, throw my phone in another room, and finish something, anything: a draft, an act, a page. I remind myself I don’t need to love every word yet, and send whatever I have to a friend I trust to talk about it, get excited/feel renewed and start the whole process over again. Because my biggest fear now, and honestly what I’m tired of mulling over in my head, is “what if?” It’s a question that can take you really far and also leave you nowhere. It can get you through a tough survival job or keep you stuck there. Sometimes sitting on an idea is more comfortable than actually doing the thing. But I can no longer sit on my ideas, I’ve decided I’d rather know what something looks like, even if it’s not the picture perfect in my head, than spend my life wondering.

So how am I facing this resistance head on? I have a solid support system and I just put one proverbial foot in front of the other. My support system isn’t huge either, my partner is a great source of emotional support, and when I’m ready I send pages to two trusted writers who give me feedback. At this point that’s all I need to stay on track. And when I’m stuck on a line, or a story-point, I break it down as much as possible and take the next logical step. I’m not thinking about who to cast in it, or how much production is going to cost, I’d overwhelm myself and panic. I’d like to think at some point I’d be able to juggle a few more things at once, but I’m being super easy on myself right now because this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this. I stop listening to the voice in my head that gives me a million and one reasons to quit and I just keep going. Because one day I’d really like to be on the other side of this particular type of resistance and on to the last step:

3) Mastery itself — or as I like to put it, the joy of deeper learning. It’s the ever-extending finish line. I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s still resistance here too, but it’s met with a solid foundation of knowing you’ve worked through something in this arena before. It’s understanding the subtleties of your chosen field. It’s fine-tuning. Have you ever re-read a book you love and discovered a million things you missed the first time you read it? That’s the process of mastery, understanding that there’s always something new to learn. The confidence and security of knowing something, with a nice mixture of the occasional “I’ve never done it like this before” challenge. It’s a place I’m working towards and will never fully arrive to.

There are countless articles out there discussing the process of mastery. Not because the act of mastery itself is particularly confusing; but because there are such immense hurdles in getting there that sometimes we need many people, telling us in many different ways, that it is okay for it to feel this hard and uncomfortable. Sometimes we need things broken down into tinier steps, or a mentor to help guide us along the way, or sometimes we just need someone to listen and offer support. Because the biggest takeaway for me so far is the road to mastery is never paved alone.