• 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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  • It was quite some time ago now that Moses ascended the mountain, and returned with a set of rules that changed the world.

    Don’t steal.
    Don’t fuck your friend’s woman.
    Don’t talk shit about God.

    If we strip any modern cynicism we may have about such religious doctrine, what I think we see is that his commandments represent something extraordinary. They are higher truths, seen in a transcendent moment, that can then be encoded, and remembered when one returns to “ordinary reality”. And thus act as a pathway back up, slowly, toward the higher truth.

    His commandments (or Gods depending upon whom you attribute authorship to) changed the world. They enabled our ancestors of the time to divert themselves away from the chief problems (sins) of the time, and live a more wholesome life.

    But times have changed.

    The great sins of our times are not what they were. My great challenge is not to refrain from the irresistible urge to steal my neighbours donkey. Moses’ commandments have done their job. We have new problems that we must learn to overcome.

    I believe that one of the great modern sins, for which we need new commandments, is that of distraction, specifically digital distraction.

    So here are 6 commandments for a new digital age.

    1.  Thou shalt not be a digital narcissist

    The wonders of the world are not a backdrop for your Instagram selfies. The privilege to travel the world is not supposed to be used as a means for enhancing your social media profile.

    I visited Stonehenge recently. One of the world’s most important megalithic sites—an absolute wonder of ancient engineering and astronomical observation. It’s formation perfectly aligns with the setting sun at Winter Solstice, and the rising sun at Summer Solstice. We know that people from all over the British Isles travelled to Stonehenge to participate in the most important ceremonies of the age. This majestic site oozes significance.

    And yet as I stood marvelling at its nature, breathing in the power of the place, I was distracted by the people around me. They would pose for selfies, seeing these great stones in the little pixelated screens of their iPhones, and then turn and walk away without actually looking at the stones!

    The unprecedented power of the social platforms we have been given access to, are not best used as stages for our own digital narcissism. The fulfilment does not come from the performance you manufacture, crafted from carefully posed selfies in front of Notre Dame, but of the spiritual substance that you draw in as you walk its hallowed nave.

    You can communicate to untold numbers of fellow humans from this platform. Share what can change us. Not what makes you feel more special.

    2.  Thou shalt not incessantly pull the lever on the smart-phone slot machine

    Let me just check again…

    Even though it’s only been 17 seconds since I last checked Facebook, …maybe there’s something good there now. The elusive comment that makes my day worth living. The fiftieth “like” that will banish the cloud of meaninglessness from my mind. Or maybe I’ve got a new whatsapp message that will prove that I am actually loved after all.

    So we keep pulling the lever on the digital slot machine, hoping for a jackpot. Pulling out our phone, and going through a patterned cycle of checks. If you pay attention, you may see that you have an ingrained loop. Mine goes something like this.

    1. co.uk/sport to check if there’s some new football news.
    2. co.uk/sport, just in case they have news the bbc doesn’t.
    3. twitter to see what latest outrage has been committed by the politically correct gestapo.
    4. youtube to see if there’s a new Jordan Peterson upload, or ultimate fail video.
    5. Nothing? Start the cycle again. After all, it’s been at least 2 minutes since I checked BBC sport.

    What’s your cycle? When you’re checking out of the present, and open up your internet browser, or pickup your phone, where’s the first place you go?

    It’s the new addiction. Hunting the little dopamine hit that is injected into our neurochemistry when we find some interesting new article we can feel smart from pretending to read. The little oxytocin boost from 3 more likes on our Stonehenge selfie.

    I watch over people’s shoulder on the Amsterdam metro, circling through their own digital loops.

    Facebook. Whatsapp. Instagram. LinkedIn. Repeat.

    And then even if they give up and return the phone to their handbag, I can measure it in minutes before they whip it out again and start again from the beginning.

    As a friend used say “there’s no cheese down that tube”. You will not find what you seek. The sense of achievement that the dopamine urge tempts you with. The feeling of social inclusion that the oxytocin craving promises.

    Each pull of the lever increases the urge to pull it again next time.

    Put down the phone. Raise your eyes. Soften your clench. Notice the world around you.

    3.  Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s social media profile

    It doesn’t do any good my friend.

    We’re wired to seek the top of the social hierarchy. We want to “master our craft” and be “seen for our gifts”.

    Jordan Peterson brilliantly describes the sad state of affairs we now find ourselves in, in the digital age. Before the internet, it wasn’t so hard to be top of your tree. Being the best yogi in the village isn’t so hard. Being a regional expert on post-structuralism intersectional theory is attainable. The competition is relatively thin. The rewards of reaching the top within your grasp.

    Now we live in a world where we’re connected to almost every other competent human alive. The hierarchy now no longer tops out at the borders of the village or town. No matter how good you think you might be at your particular craft, opening up YouTube and having a quick search will reveal the prodigy that does stuff that you couldn’t even imagine, and has the 2 million views that proves it.

    Feeling insecure about the state of your work? The longing for the dopamine will take you onto your Facebook feed, where you will discover posts from your friends that depict the amazing client they just signed, or the workshop they just crushed. You’ll see all your friends having an amazing time…without you.

    The promise of dopamine has provided the opposite. You feel even worse that when you started. No problem. Just open up the next app in your cycle. Maybe there…

    No. The goal is self-realization. Emphasis on self. Not “having what she’s got”, not “better than him”. Self improvement. Or in the wise words of Dr. Peterson, compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not who someone else is today.

    This is much more easily achieved when you’re not constantly snooping on the successes of others through their social media profiles.

    4.  Thou shalt not perpetuate political outrage

    No matter which side of the fence you find yourself on—the social justice crew, working to level the playing field, or the secret intellectual web that is trying to keep back the tides of madness—don’t stir up the shit any further.

    Incessant outrage about the state of the world, penned in 140 characters does little to move the conversation forward, and will more likely simply irritate you and derail the more important work that you should actually be doing.

    Making yourself righteous by pushing off the wrongness of the “other side” is not noble. It’s shit stirring. It’s dehumanization. It doesn’t help us weave this unprecedented complexity into a human story that makes sense to us.

    But spouting your passionate condemnation of the madness of this leader, or that policy does help with something big. It helps give you the feeling that you have something important to say. It helps you feel like you’re making a difference. You’re not. But it covers over the hole in your true desire to make a difference.

    So instead, go make a real difference.

    5.  Thou shalt not sell your attention to the highest bidder

    You may think, that you are the valued customer of Facebook or Instagram.  In fact, you are not. You are the product. The customers are the advertisers, who are offered your attention by the platform.

    Attention is precious. And every time you mindlessly lose yours in the never ending scroll of the news feed, you have sold yours to the highest bidder.

    In 1997, IBM’s super computer Deep Blue achieved a world first. It beat the world’s best chess player Gary Kasparov. It was a triumph of Artificial Intelligence over the human mind.

    What you may not know is that the Facebook Newsfeed, and YouTube’s recommended videos are also run by A.I. And power of this A.I. is hundreds of times more powerful than the computer that beat Kasparov. The Social Media A.I. has one objective only, to capture your attention for as long as possible.

    So, every time you log onto Facebook, you’re playing attention chess against an some of the most powerful A.I. ever invented. And you don’t even realise it.

    Your attention  is so much more valuable than its commodification for online advertisers. What could you use it for?

    6.  Thou shalt befriend airplane mode

    Every phone has one. It’s designed for—as the name implies—use on airplanes. It turns off your Wi-Fi and phone signal. It stops all contact with the outside world.

    We’ve never lived in such a connected world. Your ability to disconnect is what sets you apart from the masses. This is Cal Newport’s “deep work”—the space where free from distraction, you focus on the work that really matters to you, and create something meaningful.

    When you sit down to do something important, tune out the world around you. Looking at your phone because your mum just whatsapp’d you to ask about the summer vacation plans does not help you do the deep work.

    Try this. When you go to bed, put your phone on airplane mode. And don’t take it off until you’ve done at least an hour of focussed work the next morning. If you’re used to checking your messages as soon as you open your bleary ideas, this may feel uncomfortable. It’s your reliance on outside stimulation. The good stuff comes from inside. Give it a chance to speak before you connect with the entire planet.

    What’s really needed is the deep work

    The work that comes from deep inside you. The stuff that only you can create. The stuff that is the product of deep, focussed and dedicated hard graft.

    And the entire interconnected world is available to receive it, if you create it.

    The great sin that has arisen to counter-act this interconnected freedom is distraction. In that moment, when your work really requires you to sit in the uncomfortable paradox, the problem that you don’t yet know how to solve—it’s so much easier to just pick up your phone and relieve the pressure.

    Just this once. I’ll rest for a moment.

    And then you surface some indeterminate time later, infected by the successes and outrages of everyone else, dulled by the passive surfing on a tiny screen, robbed of the moment of tension that had within it, the creative seeds for something new, something deep.

    Choose differently.

    The world desperately wants the deep work, to help us steer through the addictive distractions of a digital world.

    Ewan Townhead

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  • There are those moments that happen, periods in our lives, when we reach a fork in the road.

    The wheel of life has revolved, and we’re faced with a choice. A momentous choice perhaps. We feel it, like a beckoning from the future, or an intolerance for the present.

    Something wants to change.

    “I don’t want to change. I like things how they are. It’s safe here, familiar.” The voice inside me says.

    The resistance spins its insidious web, telling me how dangerous it is to change. The ego clings to its notion of itself.

    “Maybe this is a distraction, and not really what I want.” the resistance whispers in my own voice.

    But I can tell it’s signifiant. It’s palpable somehow. I just know, I feel it.

    I’ve reached a turning point.

    *

    There are two choices.

    We can choose the change that presents itself, follow the new course, and discover the undiscovered.

    Or we choose normality and keep plodding along the highway of what we already know. The wheel of change keeps on turning, and the choice point is passed over.

    And in one sense, it doesn’t matter what we choose. Because even if we plump for normality, the wheel keeps on turning. And sooner or later it comes full circle and the choice point is presented anew.

    Except this time, the urgency has been increased. The volume level higher. The insistence harder to ignore, the status quo harder to rationalize.

    It will keep turning, returning to this point, until we choose what we’re asked to.

    So in the longest sense of the game, we can’t go wrong.

    But the price is time.

    *

    I feel it. The turning point returned. I’ve been here before. Everything slows down. The buzz of my refrigerator hums louder, as the air in the room grows sharp.

    Life is asking me to level up, to embrace my power, to choose to show myself, to fulfil what I’m capable of. The fork in the road is right there before me.

    “Will you take it this time?”

    “Do I have to?” I whine. “It’s hard, I don’t think I can.”

    No, I don’t have to. And nor do you. We can plough on, doing what we’ve always done. It will come around again. It has before. It will again.

    But do you want to keep praying the price? The price of wasted moments?

    *

    Will you turn toward your higher self, and walk his or her path?

    It’s not some moral standard you must adhere to. There’s no judgemental God or parent who will castigate you if you flunk out.

    It’s up to you.

    Do you want it?

    Or would you rather turn back toward the safety of the couch, or a cigarette. The familiarity of a comfortable existence. Doing the work you’ve already been doing, because you’re good at it. It’s fine how it is.

    The turning point is yours. It’s not something you have to take. You can sit back and wait until the wheel has spun so many times, that the tension is unbearable, and you can’t feel a choice, except to leap. That’s life’s way of ensuring you take the true path eventually.

    You can do that if you want. I can too. I’ve done it plenty of times.

    Or, you can slow down. Right now. And take a breath, deep in the centre of your belly.

    It’s you that lies down that scarier path. Your truer nature embodied and lived a little more, with every small step you take.

    I don’t want to hurry you. But life is waiting for you down there. How long it will take for the wheel to turn around to this point once more? Do you want to wait and see?

    Or do you want to take that first shuffling step, down the road untraveled?

     

    Ewan Townhead

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  • Because if you do, you will gift to the world expressions and stories that only you can give. And we want them. Need them even.

    You see beauty that no one else sees. You hear truth that no one else listens to. You have a belief in the goodness of the world that is completely unique to you.

    And your mission, if you cease to refuse it, is to make it. And give it. And move people.

    That’s what art does. It moves people.

    It moves them into something deeper in themselves – a place of ungrasped potential, or dishonoured tears.

    They are moved into a different vision. They see life’s landscape through your eyes, and something touches them. And their world changes.

    What is your art?

    Your art is your expression of your inner world, in outer form.

    The medium is less important. Writing. Song. Public speaking. Film. Facebook posts. Sex. Massage. Carpentry. Whatever feels good. Whatever allows your expression to be woven into something potent.

    What’s important is that you practice channelling your expression. No one can teach you what your expression is. They can teach you technique. They impart principles of practice. They can give you maps for the journey. But the expression is yours. It follows no rules. Except the rule of authenticity, which is not really a rule at all.

    The practice of expression is very simple.

    1. Express yourself through art
    2. Repeat

    The greatest teacher is your own experience.

    No one can teach you your expression, because your expression is simply what happens when you sink into yourself, and make stuff.

    Just as no one could teach John Lennon to be John Lennon, no one can teach you to be more you. Except you.

    Making it

    Making it is very simple.

    You carve out time, and you make it.

    If you’re a writer, you sit down and write. If you’re a tantrica, you feel your desire and fuck. If you’re a dolphin whisper, you get in the water and talk to dolphins.

    The goal is not to make good stuff; the goal is to make stuff. Good is not in your realm of control. Making is. And more you make, the more goodness you will craft.

    If you paint a hundred paintings, some of them will suck ass, half of them will be below average, and a handful will catch something beautiful in a way you couldn’t have predicted.

    Doing it every day is best.

    Doing is whether you feel like it or not, is crucial.

    It doesn’t count if no one sees it

    Art is something that moves people. If you don’t share it, then no one can be moved, and so it is not art. It’s a thing you made, and then hid.

    Once you’ve made it, give it away.

    Then it’s not yours anymore. It never really was to begin with. You were its parent. And the time comes, when you must let that child go its own way in the world. You cannot choose its impact.

    You don’t have to share all of your art. It’s better to not share all of it. Because a lot of it is junk. But you probably need to share more than you think you should.

    Risk over exposure.

    Do not try to repeat your success

    Listen for the impact your art has. What struck a beautiful chord? What hit a bum note? Notice how it permeates the people that engage it.

    But do not try to ‘repeat your success’.

    Art is the expression of novelty. You cannot repeat novelty. If you try to replicate novelty, you will simply mimic the past, and that is not art.

    So listen, very carefully, and let your impact on others impact you. Ruminate on its lessons. Let it work you.

    And then when you sit down the next day to make your art, forget all of it.

    Your excuses mean something

    They mean it’s something important that your resisting making.

    “I don’t have enough time, I’m too busy.”

    “I’m not good enough, it won’t work.”

    “It’s not appropriate, people will judge me for it.”

    These are the voices of resistance. Resistance is the density you feel when you try to push through into an explored place, like cutting your way through a virgin jungle.

    Following the advice of your resistance is choosing the wrong guide. Resistance wants you to turn around and return to safety. So go deeper into the exact place resistance is telling you to avoid. That’s where your art is.

    The closer your art is to your soul, that bigger the resistance you will feel.

    Choose your art and make it

    Today, I’m going to carve out 45 minutes.

    I’m going to sit down, and write about things that want to be written about.

    Then I’m going to do the same thing tomorrow.

    I’m going to share more of my art than seems sensible.

    I’m going to listen for the feedback, and then I’m going to dismiss it.

    I’m not going to be lulled into believing my resistance.

    I’m going to touch people.

    In the way only I can.

     

    Now it’s your turn.

    Go.

     

    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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