There can often be so much resistance to doing the things we really want to do. So naturally there can be resistance for things that feel less desirable or more like “have to’s”. Either way, sometimes simply taking that first step or breaking things down into the smallest possible step can help the resistance to melt away. How can you give yourself permission to take that first step? Here’s how it showed up for me and how I moved through my resistance this week to:
Getting the Engine Started
My body often operates like the law of inertia. When I’m moving, whether on a project or on the trail, I can feel the pull to keep going. Almost like gravity pulling a roller coaster down hill. But getting the momentum can feel like a huge effort.
That was my experience this week as I stopped after work to watch the sun set over the ocean from the bluffs on Devil’s Slide. After the sun sank beneath the sea it was just too cold and windy to stay comfortably perched on this narrow precipice. I headed back to the car but knew I wanted to extend my nature connection and get some exercise as well. I drove to a trailhead a short distance away that would have enough tree cover to protect me from the wind.
I imagined on the short drive that I would just get out and hit the trail. Once there though, the whiny part of my brain kicked in. “It’s cold out there, I’m too tired, I don’t feel like moving. It seems like too much effort.” At the same time I imagined if I just got started I would enjoy it. Even knowing that, it felt like so much effort to step outside the car and a part of me was incredibly resistant.
I eventually decided I would get out and just go a few hundred feet. If at that point I felt like turning around, I gave myself full permission to do so. And if I was enjoying the experience I could continue. This made it easier to get started.
There was still a little light left in the sky as I started my journey and the flowers alongside the trail were not yet full closed for the evening. I started in a different direction than usual, following a ridge line exposed to the evenings strong ocean breeze. Brrrr that’s cold so as soon as the trail offered an option to head inland and up Montara Mountain I took it.
As the sky grew darker, the stars began to appear. The moon’s brilliance became ever brighter and created shadows of the trees and of me along the trail. I was surprised by how late the song birds sang though eventually their voices faded into the past.
As the light of the day gave way and the air grew more crisp, the sound of my footsteps took on a musical note. As I climbed higher up the mountain the valleys glowed in the moonlight. Little rabbits darted across the trail in front of me.
At one point, more than an hour into my hike, I stopped to focus on the sounds of the night. In the strong breeze, rubbing branches were played like a bow over violin strings creating magical songs. There’s a loud rustle in the hillside brush. My mind making up all kinds of stories of the unseen critters that might be out there with each new sound I hear.
I felt like I could fall asleep in this spot, enchanted by the ambiance of the night. Before I got too tired, I decided to head back. Rounding a bend in the trail, I surprised a crow who leapt into the air, leaving the dead branch it had been sitting on dancing in the air above me.
The shadows were more bold now and the tree branches made gorgeous skyscapes framing the moonlight. I love being out after dark and experiencing the world from another perspective. It’s a time for me to think and to process and to meditate. And though I was resistant to getting started, I’m so thankful for that permission to just begin and all the gifts of the night.
