• Nestled between the stress of overwhelm, and the safety of comfort, lies a sweet spot.

    A place where you’re stretched just enough that you must evolve beyond yourself, but not so much that you break under the pressure.

    An acorn knows how it works—it requires just the right blend of support and challenge to grow into an oak. Without the support of enough water and nutrients, it cannot survive. But without the challenge to ascend into the sunlight, it will also fail to reach the height of its maturity.

    The problem is, we’re more complicated than acorns. And so we must learn to recognize and navigate the stress zone and the comfort zone, learning how to settle into the sweet spot in between.

    The Stress Zone

    Running Coaches Rising I was not short on challenge. Leading a small business through its own growing pains is painful for the leaders and the people inside.

    After several years of consistent growth, Covid happened. It was amazing and terrible for us. We grew like crazy as everyone sheltered in place and discovered zoom. Then we contracted as the market saturated, and things started to go wrong. We had to steer the company through a new market. We no longer had the place to ourselves, we had to adapt. Alongside this, we needed to professionalise. Too many of our processes were based on people keeping stuff in their heads, and not enough was written down.

    The upheaval led to one of my business partners and co-founders leaving the business. Which upped the challenge levels immeasurably.

    Running such a business threw challenges at me on a daily basis. I not only had my own responsibilities and projects, but I was also helping our team with all theirs.

    I reached a place that’s common to entrepreneurs, where my endless to-do list produced the experience of being a hamster in a wheel, with never enough time to take stock and find my centre.

    I began to rely on the challenges coming at me, rather than seeking them out and choosing the trials I faced. And I became a good servant leader, working myself into the ground for the good of the cause.

    This is a masculine wound. The warrior who does not have the wisdom to stop, and wind down from the battle and actually feel himself.

    I became so used to being out of my comfort zone that at some point I just let go, and let the storm reshape me. It was messy at times, and yet it forced me to mature in profound ways.

    But it had a cost.

    The pressure was relentless and gave me no room or ground from which to use my inbuilt gifts—my artistry, creativity and transformational wisdom. And so, I “put them away for another day, when I had time.”

    Until my body stepped in and closed the whole thing down. I was forced to look at what I’d been ignoring.

    This is an example of too much challenge. Which results in overshooting the growth zone.

    The stress of responsibility, combined with the burying of my deeper gifts left me dry, tight and uninspired. I didn’t know how to find enough support for myself, and my growth stagnated.

    This is the stress zone.

    The Comfort Zone

    The opposite of the stress zone is the comfort zone. Something we all know intimately.

    This is where there is not enough challenge (and too much support).

    It’s a strategic form of threat aversion. You bed down where it feels safe, do all the things that you know are ok, and don’t take any risks. It’s like an antelope hiding out in the bush after a near thing with a lion.

    If the antelope had our “sophisticated” neocortex, it would spin all kinds of stories about the world, get stuck in its trauma, and become afraid to do anything that risks the lion finding it again.

    Real antelopes don’t do this. When their senses tell them it’s safe once more, they get up, hop off and continue on with their life.

    The comfort zone is a result of trying to create safety, by sticking to what you know. It feels like you’re being smart and responsible, not putting too much pressure on yourself. But like too much stress and challenge, it also misses the sweet spot.

    I have ingenious ways of staying in the comfort zone. When the goals and challenges feel big, I like to “calm myself down”, spending hours doing spiritual practice so I feel better. Or concocting more detailed plans and strategies that I hope will nullify the fear and insecurity.

    When stuck in the comfort zone, I stay where I am, like the antelope in the bush, waiting for a moment it feels safe to emerge. I diligently do things that I think make me feel safer.

    But the result isn’t real safety. It’s a particular brand of anxiety that doesn’t abate. It can seem like I’m supporting myself and taking care of myself, but really I’m hiding. Perhaps you recognize your own version of this.

    The incessant quest to create safety results in an experience that feels anything but safe, because it’s predicated on a mistaken belief. That one day it will be safe.

    This is the comfort zone. Which is a strange name for it. Because underneath all the strategizing, it’s anything but safe.

    Between these two zones of stress and comfort lies a third place—the growth zone.

    The Magic of the Growth Zone

    On the inside, the growth zone feels like the result of having taken a series of steps far enough outside of known territory, that I don’t even fully understand how I got here, or what’s going on. And yet it’s thrilling. The courage has made me do things that seem risky to the antelope in the bush, but as I do them, I start to feel more like the lion.

    I sit writing this having finished the manuscript for my book. I’ve dreamed of reaching this stage. And now I’m here, it feels so totally weird. I’m proud, and excited. And yet it all feels so unfamiliar. Like I’ve wandered out of the town I know so well, and I find myself in a place I’ve never been before. One I didn’t even know existed.

    I got here by following the call deep inside. The one that said “you must finish this book”. I knew it was true, though I had no idea how to do it.

    I did it by committing completely to the goal. And then every day, showing up to work on it no matter my mood. The inner voices were unequivocal in their caution. “How can you think you can do this Ewan? You have no track record.”

    Which is exactly the point. I had to grow to be able to finish it. The one that started the book was not the same one that finished it. And in order to become that person, I had to choose very carefully who I was going to listen to.

    “Don’t go that way!” Says the antelope.

    But in the magic of the growth-zone, resistance works like a signpost, pointing the way.

    One form of resistance is to be trusted (a genuine indication to head another direction). It’s your heart not wanting to go that way, but your mind thinking you have to. This is a kind of deadening resistance. It makes your heart sink, and your energy drop.

    The other kind of resistance makes your pulse quicken and your energy activate. It feels like fear, but is also excitement (if you can alchemize the sensations). Because it’s actually both—life force energy activating as the path lights up. This kind of resistance is like a neon sign over the doorway.

    “Scared as fuck? Step right through.”

    This is the feeling of being in the growth zone—working outside of known reality, risking all the things that keep you comfortable and seemingly safe.

    And in this way, do we grow, as the tree grows, becoming ever bigger and wider. The acorn fulfils its contract to become the oak. You and I fulfil the mission we came here with. To grow into the big and beautiful being we’re asked to become.

    Where is your resistance pointing you? What is the magic that is calling you inside the growth zone?

    Ewan Townhead

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  • You want to make it don’t you? That thing that’s been nagging at you for weeks or years.

    It feels big. It’s tugging at your sleeve. It won’t leave you alone, although you do your very best to ignore it.

    “Create me!” It says, so innocently. As if it were the simplest thing in the world.

    But simple it is not!

    The stakes are high. Your sense of self is on the line. Your level of self-worth will be appraised. Because this thing is not just a cool idea, or a part of your career strategy, it’s the thing your soul wants you to create.

    I know you know what it is. And if what I’m saying is starting to irritate you, then you definitely know what it is.

    So what are you waiting for?

    You’re waiting until you feel stronger.

    You’re waiting until providence arrives to help you.

    You’re waiting until you have more of a cushion to fall back on.

    You’re waiting until you feel ready.

    Because there’s this point in the future, when things will be different. Right?

    You’ll be braver, or more prepared. You’ll have more experience. Or maybe a bunch of people will ask you to make it, so you’ll know it will work. You’ll have evidence that it will work! You’ll feel inspired!

    Better to wait until then, when you’re ready.

    None of this is actually true. But it’s the only story your mind can spin that will protect you from the truth. It’s the only way it can spare you the humiliation of admitting that actually, you’re scared.

    Who wants to admit they’re afraid, and bottling it!?

    No, much better to justify the whole thing to yourself.

    You’re not ready

    God. You’re so tired of believing it all. And believe it you do.

    You believe it in the moment you load up Facebook, or pour another glass or wine, or turn on the TV, rather than turning toward your soul, and at least hearing what it wants.

    “You’re not ready.” The fear whispers.

    You believe it when you notice you feel jealous about everyone else who seems to be so on mission.

    “It’s fine. You’re not ready to be like them anyhow.”

    You believe it when you just diligently get on with your tasks, and go through the motions.

    “Yes, better to just stick to what you’re good at. You’re not ready yet. Just wait.”

    He’s so sure of himself. He is adamant about the risks at hand. He seems so strong. He has so much authority. It’s no wonder you’ve followed his advice.

    But it’s not working. Under his leadership, you’re suffering. He promises much. Much never delivers.

    Go gently. But go.

    So, what are you waiting for sweetheart?

    I know. It’s fucking scary. That’s a good sign. It means you were right, and this is indeed the call of your soul.

    But you’ve got to be brave. Ok?

    Don’t push yourself too hard. That will only get good old fear freaking out again. You need to look after him too.

    Take it easy. Go gently. But go!

    Otherwise you’ll be waiting until it’s safe. And it will never be safe.

    What’s the first step? The first tiny step. The smallest step you can imagine.

    If you can’t do even that, just write down what it would be.

    “If I were to follow the call of my soul, the first small step would be…”

    Pin it on your refrigerator. And keep looking at it. Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.

    That’s it. That’s your first step. You just took it.

    Say “well done.” Say it out loud.

    Then take the next step tomorrow. Or next week. Just make sure you keep moving.

    The speed at which you progress is not the point. Moving is. This is how we feel good about ourselves. This is what tells us we’re doing the right thing.

    Look with honest eyes, at what it is you are called to create. And then watch yourself as you move slowly toward it.

    That is the feeling of being on purpose.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • You probably have an idea that you haven’t made and shared yet.

    I don’t know exactly what it is, but if you think about it, you probably have a bunch of reasons why it’s not time to share it with the world yet. Maybe it’s an idea for a course you want to make, or a workshop, or a painting, or a show, or a book, or even an entire business.

    The process of turning an idea into a real thing can be an arduous one. Especially if the idea is dear to me. In fact, the more exciting the idea, the more important it feels, the more confronting the prospect of actually manifesting it usually feels.

    And while our procrastination is utterly understandable. It is also, I believe, unnecessary. And I want to tell you why, and how you can take a different route to the creation of your inspiration.

    The day I drunk my own medicine

    I’m about to lead the final session of a group coaching program I’ve been running for the last 7 months. It’s been a special experience for all of us.

    The group looks little like the vision I had in my head when I conceived it. It’s not even the promised program that I enrolled people into.

    It started with an interview I did. Towards the end of the interview I was asked what final piece of advice I had for people watching. I said “launch before you’re ready.”

    I’d been practicing the principle for some time with my writing – publishing things despite my insecurity wanting to endlessly tinker with them. I’d published more regularly than my perfectionistic ego felt was safe.

    I’d launched my website the previous year before I felt ready as well. I’d procrastinated for months, and so in the end, after some help from a friend, I launched, with simply a front page. It had the name on it, an evocative picture I’d found, some prose and vague promises and a sign up box that offered free updates (I didn’t mention the fact that I didn’t really know what I’d be updating you on).

    So when I answered the question, and said “launch before you’re ready”, I contracted for a moment. I realized I’d just busted myself. Because I was thinking about launching a group program for the first time, and I was procrastinating, and I wasn’t taking my own medicine. I confessed this to her. And I said I’d follow my own advice.

    “If you are not embarrassed by the first version of your product, you’ve launched too late.” – Reid Hoffman

    And so the very next week I followed through. I put a small note on the bottom of a blog article I published. It said…

    “If you want to really dive into this, I’m going to be running a new small group coaching program called Creating The Work You Were Made For.

    I’ll be inviting 6 people to work with me closely for 3 months, and learn how to connect to, create, share and sell their essential work. Interested?

    Write “I’m interested” in the comments below and I’ll email you more details.”

    And a bunch of people did. And I enrolled the program from that group of folks.

    You don’t need to pretend you have all the answers

    I tell you this story, not to demonstrate any competence that I may possess. But to try and illustrate a point. That if you have something you’ve been thinking about creating and sharing, there is a way to succeed, without having to know all the answers, or plan the whole thing exhaustively, or know where it will end.

    If you instead use your authentic ignorance as a part of the launch itself, something very powerful is allowed to unfold. Because you do not hoard all the creativity for yourself, you allow your followers or clients to participate in the creative process with you.

    I didn’t know exactly what my program would look like, I didn’t know exactly what the curriculum would be or how I was going to structure it. I had a theme and a rough skeleton, but little more.

    But the seed of the idea was clear. It was a group program for 6 people, over 3 months. And it would be about helping people create and share their own true work. So that’s all I said.

    Now let me be clear, there is a difference between telling people about your thing before it’s finished, and there’s dumping a big pile of confusion on people and expecting them to sort the quality from the chaff. The first one takes courage, the second one laziness.

    But our tendency so often, is that we wait too long. The ripe fruit is not shared, we think it needs to mature further, until it begins to go black. So that’s what I decided to do. I shared the fruits of my idea.

    If no-one had commented on my invitation, I would have binned the whole thing right then. It would have stung my ego for sure. But at least I would have got real feedback immediately. It would have stung a hell of a lot more had I spent 2 months designing the program and writing extensive marketing materials for it, and then no one had commented.

    But as people began to tell me they were interested, I went to the next level of detail. I sat down to brainstorm ideas, and then the same day I wrote a letter direct to all the people that were expressing their interest. I tried to tell the truth.

    If you’re reading this page, you must have told me you’re interested in the program I’m running. I’ve launched this program in a somewhat unconventional way. I announced it before I knew exactly what it would be.

    So, from reading this page, you should get a really good sense of what this program is about, but you won’t get all the details. Because I’m actually still designing it, based on who registers!

    In fact, to be even more accurate, if you decide to come and be a part of this, you’ll be designing it along with me, as we go along. It will be alive, organic, unplanned (apart from the meticulous planning I will of course do behind the scenes because I’m a perfectionistic idealist who wants to serve the shit out of you.)

    I told them everything I did know about the program. And I told them where I was vague. And I told them things would definitely change.

    And they did.

    The design process continued throughout the entire enrollment

    The first time I sat down with one of the potential participants things changed. We had a really powerful conversation, I understood more deeply where she was at and what she needed. As we talked about it I realized the time frame felt too short.

    “I have a feeling 6 months would fit better for this thing, how would that be for you?”

    “Actually, that really relaxes me. Yes it feels much better.”

    I checked it out with other possible participants, they agreed. So I changed it to 6 months, not 3.

    Because I’d been explicit in that first letter about the experimental nature of the program, it gave me the freedom to change my mind as I talked with people. Those enrollment conversations were as much about discovering what they needed as they were about me inviting them to participate. I learned so much.

    If I had simply made it all up on my own and then presented it fully determined, I would have missed so much.

    And that is what I love about this principle. That by being explicit that you’re experimentally discovering the nature of your creation, as you create it, it loosens the habit we all have, of pretending we know more than we do, and telling people how it is.

    Launching before you’re ready conquers your resistance

    I’d been procrastinating on the group program idea for a long time. I’d first brainstormed ideas for it 9 months before. Though to be honest, I’d had the desire to run my own small group program for years, and never pulled the trigger.

    “It’s not quite time, I need a bigger following first, or at least a bit more experience.”

    “I don’t know what I’d teach, let’s just let the more mature ideas emerge organically.”

    “The prospect is really hard. I’ll just not put my attention on it so I don’t have to deal with the fact I know I’m stalling because I’m afraid.”

    We justify it to ourselves. “I’m not ready.” Or to be more accurate, I don’t feel ready. We’re trained to prepare and know all the answers. In school exams, or business presentations, or interviews, we’re demonstrate our competence by giving intelligent, comprehensive responses. “I don’t know” is seen as a sign of incompetence.

    By deliberately launching before I was ready, I cut through my resistance in one fell swoop. Once it was out, I couldn’t take it back. Or I could, but I’d look like an ass, which I’m always determined to avoid.

    And all it took was 3 sentences on the end of a blog post.

    Us human beings don’t like looking stupid in front of our peers. So once you let other people know what you’re committed to, it’s a hell of a lot harder to back out.

    And we back out all the time. We have an idea, an exciting idea, we’re inspired, and then we think about how far away it feels, so we back out. And we justify it to ourselves. We say we’re not ready, or not worthy.

    But most of the time, that’s just resistance. It’s your safety zone trying to maintain its integrity. It’s current reality trying to preserve itself. It’s your ego wanting to keep things just the way they are.

    Resistance is cunning as fuck. And insidious. It will take any form it needs to stop you in your tracks.

    You don’t have to wait. You could do it today if you wanted.

    Do you have something?

    Maybe it’s been simmering in the background. Maybe you constantly think about it, and dream of the day when you’ll be ready to actually make it real. Maybe it’s a new idea that feels precious and fragile.

    What’s in your way? A story probably. One that says you need to be more prepared. One that says it would be irresponsible or inappropriate to launch that thing today. One that says you’re not qualified, or that no-one will give a shit if you put out an invitation.

    You may be a lot more ready than you feel. You may know a lot more than you believe.

    Your idea might be vague, or detailed. It might be just a name and an inspiration. It might be nameless and mapped out in structure. It doesn’t really matter. As long as you have something that people can say yes or no to, that something probably is enough.

    “I’ve been thinking about offering sessions for people that want to do naked pole dancing. I’m so passionate about it, I do it all the time myself. Are you interested? Email me at fuckyeah@nakedpoledancingamsterdam.com”

    Because once you release it to the world. It’s not just yours anymore. And it takes on a life of its own. And it takes you on a ride that you could never have mapped out in advance.

     

    Ewan Townhead

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  • Brene Brown said it best.

    “You can’t get to courage without walking through vulnerability.”

    If you go up to somebody who is in the midst of taking courageous action, and you ask “how do you feel?” they probably won’t say “I feel courageous”.

    They’ll probably say: “I feel vulnerable.”

    If you wilfully decide to ‘do courage’ you’re probably posturing, which is definitely not courageous, or vulnerable.

    But, if you feel where you’re afraid to look at yourself, you’ll probably find a beautiful vulnerability that requires genuine courage to reveal.

    The One in the Arena

    In January I met with my mentor in person for the first time in London.

    After a passionate and sprawling conversation over dinner, I took him to a classic English pub in Westminster. Over a pint over ale, he asked me if I knew the ‘The Man in the Arena’ quote by Theodore Roosevelt.

    It’s a quote that I now know intimately, one that he has sprawled over a wall in his offices. But at the time, I’d never heard it.

    I’ve read it numerous times since that evening, and each and every time I do it opens my heart and brings tears to my eyes.

    For I find myself on a path that consistently asks for a greater levels of courage than I knew I possessed.

    We are each called to show our Work to the world. It is the challenge of our time: to continually bare our truth in a world where promotion is free and criticism is bundled along with it.

    “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt

    The Lonely Leader of Truth

    Several years ago, two friends and I created a (now somewhat heralded) interview series called Waking Up the Workplace. We spoke with many of our heroes in the conscious business field.

    I still listen to those recordings sometimes, I learn new things every time I do.

    Last spring I was doing precisely this. It was a recording of a class taught by the man who I would later ask to mentor me.

    During that class he spoke about an author that had had a huge impact on him, a rather unknown giant of the philosophy of business called Peter Koestenbaum.

    I went out and got myself a copy of Koestenbaum’s book Leadership: The Inner Side of Greatness.

    I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be the beginning of my journey into the nature of courage.

    This is what Koestenbaum says…

    “To be courageous is to be prepared for the isolation of leadership. Thus to be a self-starter is to be autonomous, to have given up the helplessness and dependency that are so often fostered by the presumptive security of larger organizations. Autonomy is the ability to live in isolation and be comfortable with the feeling of aloneness. For the person who cherishes intimacy, isolation is as painful as it is fundamental to integrity, because intimacy without the courage to stand up for one’s rights is empty servitude.”

    In other words, courage is the decision to step out alone, and follow your own truth. To walk the unknown path, the one that leads to something you deeply year for, and that your mind cannot yet comprehend.

    To be courageous is to step out into the arena and show people what you’ve created.

    Seth Godin says “Here, I made this”, is one of the bravest and most vulnerable actions there is.

    And that is exactly the quest that the courageous one is entrusted with.

    To turn away from the safety of servitude, and the dependence of employment. To step out, alone, on the only path that is authentically yours; your path.

    To relinquish the right to determine what is good, and what is appropriate, and reveal what is truly in your heart.

    The Courageous Path is paved with Anxiety

    Just as you can’t get to courage without walking through vulnerability, you cannot take the path of courage without feeling the substance of the road you walk.

    “Anxiety is the key to courage, for courage is the decision to tolerate maximum amounts of anxiety.” – Peter Koustenbaum

    The path of courage is paved with anxiety.

    Courage is not the absence of fear, courage is the decision to immerse yourself in the very things that threaten your sense of safety.

    Courage is not something that strong people feel, courage is what every person feels when they embrace their vulnerability and step out into the unknown.

    I’ve become fascinated by anxiety over the last year or two. Perhaps because I’ve experienced so much of it. Perhaps because I had an unshakable sense that the way we often think about anxiety missed something huge.

    I still remember the first time I read about anxiety from an existential perspective. It was again in a book by Koestenbaum, but his notion of existential anxiety goes back to the Danish philosopher Kierkegaard.

    I covered this topic extensively in a previous piece. But I return to it, because you can’t get to the heart of courage without understanding anxiety.

     “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” – Soren Kierkegaard

    Anxiety, it seems, is not so much an emotion, but the existential mood of life. Its literal Latin root means the pain of passing through a narrow passage.

    What single experience is more existentially vulnerable than passing from the soft safety of our conception to the hard reality of birth? That formative moment, when before we even know how to think, we feel the reality of living. And it is anxiety.

    Yet anxiety is not a dysfunction in need of medication, or a negative emotion in need of releasing. No, no, it is the very fabric of freedom, as felt by our powerfully permeable human beingness.

    Kierkegaard continues…

    “Because it is possible to create — creating one’s self, willing to be one’s self… — one has anxiety. One would have no anxiety if there were no possibility whatever.”

    Anxiety is not simply the price we pay for being creative beings, it is the actual feeling of becoming who we are. It is the emotional mood of courageous self-authorship.

    It is the immense energy of our freedom that we have not yet found the courage to claim.

    Free to Choose Your Nakedness

    The root of the word courage is very old. It comes from an ancient language we know very little about.  At its core, courage means simply ‘heart’.

    Courage for me feels like nakedness – showing my inner heart to the outside world.

    It is opening my hand, and allowing my precious creations to be set free into a world who’s embracing or rejection of them, I cannot control.

    It is the opposite of comfort. It is the opposite of safe.

    And yet it is the path that leads to realization.

    You choose to come and live this life because you have a story to tell.

    It is your story.

    It is the story that no-one else can ever know.

    Except when you realize you are already free. Free to embrace your anxiety. Free to reveal your vulnerability. Free to show your naked heart to the world. Free to realize who you really are.

    This is the heart of courage.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • “I can’t write today, I’m not feeling inspired.”

    “There’s no way I can launch this new thing without the logo being finished.”

    “One day, I’ll be ready to create that thing I’ve been dreaming about. One day.”

    Resistance.

    The albatross around the neck of every creative entrepreneur. The bane of every artist. The greatest foe of anyone bringing something new into the world.

    Whatever you make – a book, a business, a design or dance-show – the process is the same. It is the mysterious, chaotic process of birthing something new. It is the practice of creativity.

    When you create, you meet the inevitable counter-force: resistance. Resistance is the evil twin of creativity. It is inseparable, unescapable.

    If you create stuff, you will feel resistance.

    The Naivety of the Common Artist

    “Man, I don’t think I’m capable of creating this thing yet. I need to go do some more x, y, z. Then, maybe I’ll be ready to start work on it.”

    I need more healing.

    I need to be more recognized first.

    I haven’t learned enough about this topic to create something about it yet.

    I’m not experienced enough to create this thing.

    I’m not ready.

    I’m not capable.

    I’m not worthy.

    And so goes the never-ending naivety of the common artist.

    It is not the fact that the artist feels resistance that makes him naive. No, the naivety lies in the belief that resistance can be overcome.

    The mistake that I have continually made, my clients have continually made, and my friends have continually made is this: to attempt to resolve resistance, before proceeding to the creation of whatever it is we are called to create.

    The mistake is thinking resistance is personal. The mistake is thinking resistance says anything about the state or worthiness of your own being. The mistake is thinking that the cause of the resistance must be integrated, healed or resolved.

    Resistance cannot be resolved. Ever.

    Resistance is Part of the Physics of Creativity

    I like watching Formula One motor racing. It’s the pinnacle of motor sport where some of the finest engineers in the world seek to push the edge of technology, and build cars that go ever faster.

    When a car drives at high speed, the thing that compromises that velocity is the air around it. The faster you go, the more the car has to punch through the air.

    In other words, the counter force to a car’s acceleration is air-resistance.

    This is simple physics.

    When racing-car drivers hit air-resistance they don’t slow down, wondering what went wrong.

    They don’t reason that it must be a mechanical problem that the engineers must repair before continuing. They don’t see it as a problem with their own technique that must be rectified back in the simulator.

    But this is exactly what most creative entrepreneurs do.

    Trying to resolve your doubts, and insecurities before creating your work, is like trying to drive a car without experiencing air resistance. It’s like trying to change the nature of physics.

    It’s naive at best.

    It is the physics of creativity.

    I Disregarded All My Own Wisdom

    Launch fast. Minimum viable product. Beta version. Lean approach. Try it out. Don’t be perfect.

    I knew all the theory. I knew the practice. I’d taught it to our students in the conscious business academy. I’d read the books. Watched the videos. Extolled its wisdom.

    It’s sound wisdom. The faster you launch, the faster you can get real feedback from your real community. Don’t get too deep before you test your assumptions in the marketplace. Don’t think you’re smarter than the tribe you’re here to serve. Perfectionism will crush your entrepreneurial creativity.

    The sooner you get out there, the sooner you start doing the real work. It’s not real until it’s launched. It’s not art until it’s released.

    I knew it all. And I disregarded it.

    “It’s not ready. I’m not clear enough. The copy isn’t right yet. The design needs to be more polished. The podcast doesn’t work without its intro music.”

    When I launched this website in October last year, it was a single page.

    200 words. A single picture. A small logo. A place for folks to put an email address in. There wasn’t even anything for offered for signing up, just a vague promise of impending wisdom.

    It had taken me 8 months.

    For that is how resistance works. The more you care about your creation, the more you will be tested. The deeper the place it comes from, the further resistance will leap to meet you.

    Resistance is a Dishonourable Foe

    He knows your weak spots, and he’s not afraid to go for them. He’ll play dirty. Honour isn’t part of his make-up. He’s here to shut down your creativity, and he’ll use whatever strategy he can find to do so.

    He’s clever, very clever. He knows exactly what guise to assume. He has perfect timing. And he has no scruples.

    Resistance had me by the balls as I was creating The Realized Entrepreneur.

    “This isn’t good Ewan. It’s too vague. It’s too pompous. It’s not practical enough. It doesn’t have enough depth. It’s an ugly design. You’re being too perfectionistic”

    If I’d have been wiser to his game, I would have noticed that his advice had no consistency. He just said whatever it was that would plant the seed of doubt, and then he’d water it relentlessly.

    “Yes, you don’t feel ready do you? That’s because you don’t understand your target customer yet, you can’t launch until you do. You haven’t nailed your core message yet, make sure that’s clear before you go public.”

    It sounded like good advice. It sounded like the advice that a very experienced marketer would give himself. So I listened. Thinking it was my own higher guidance.

    He even spoke to me during meditation.

    “Maybe you should re-write the front page copy? Yes? You knew there was something that didn’t feel right with that copy didn’t you? It’s all written in the 2nd person. That doesn’t fit with your principle of personal transparency. Better re-write it. Your integrity is important.”

    My god he was clever.

    What is Resistance?

    Resistance is not really a he or a she. And he’s definitely not you, nor even a real part of you. He’s not a real voice of wisdom, and he’s not to be trusted.

    He’s just air-resistance with a microphone.

    He’s just the desperate status-quo hijacking your inner dialogue.

    There’s no inner-guidance to hear. There’s no grain of truth to be uncovered. There’s no valid perspective to integrate. He’s just out to keep you stuck exactly where you are.

    Don’t listen to him. And for god’s sake don’t try to reason with him. Learn to see him. His power is based on non-detection. He’s like a spy behind enemy lines. You beat him as soon as his cover is blown.

    If he can’t move stealthily in and out of your sub-conscious mind, he will lose his control over you. Learn to spot him.

    6 Disguises that Resistance Wears

    1. You haven’t done enough work on yourself. You need more healing. You need to meditate more. You need to resolve a childhood trauma, because it’s really stopping the real you from coming forth. If you transform that part of you, then it will be real, and authentic.
    2. Waiting for creativity to flow. Not flowing today? Wait till tomorrow. Not flowing tomorrow? Wait till after your weekend break. You tell yourself you mustn’t force it. You don’t want to distort the purity of creativity. You must wait for true inspiration.
    3. You’re afraid people won’t like what you make. I want to create. But it’s scary. It’s exposing. It’s dangerous. What if they don’t like it? What if it’s not good? What if it’s not valuable? You tell yourself these are rational possibilities. You tell yourself that you must resolve your fear first.
    4. I’m not in a rush, I still have plenty of time. I don’t want to force it, rush it. I know it’s tough, and I’m probably experiencing some of this ‘resistance’ thing, but I have time left. It will come at its own pace. I don’t want to be all disciplinarian with myself. I have years left.
    5. You keep shifting focus. You’re working on one thing, then something happens, and you decide to work on something else. You’re writing an ebook, but before you finish, you switch to brainstorming about a new idea. You tell yourself you’re just ‘following the natural flow’.
    6. Resistance doesn’t apply to me. Nice theory. Nice idea. I don’t really think it applies to me though. I don’t have resistance like you’re describing it. I have genuine reasons I’m not creating my thing. It’s not resistance, it’s something else.

    Resistance is anything that stops you from creating the work you’re called to create. He is a ruthless foe.

    Go Forth and Create

    Creativity does not belong to me or you. The things we create do not belong to us. They are the possessions of God. The great spirit of evolution.

    Our gift is to create. To get out of the way. To make the unmakable. To speak the unspeakable.

    It is not our right to determine worthiness. That is the purview of history.

    Make it. Share it.

    And if the thing you make is not good? If it stinks?

    Let it hang. Like a fart in an elevator. Feel the shame. Smell the toxicity. Feel like an ass. Suck it up.

    Then go create more stuff.

    That’s how you beat resistance.

     

    Note: If resistance is the dragon that we all must face as creative entrepreneurs, then the original St. George is a man called Steven Pressfield. If you’re an artist – someone who makes stuff – and you’ve never read his work. Correct it. Now.

    Ewan Townhead

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