Reluctance

The reluctance to change is the bane of the therapist’s existence.  The word originally means ‘to struggle against’ from the Latin for struggle: luctari, as in ‘ineluctable’, meaning ‘inevitable’ – not able to be struggled with: Obama defied the ineluctable logic that he was unelectable.

We do we all struggle so against change?  There is a fundamental fear of change that is almost like the will to live – we struggle against change even when we want it.  One client in the class today is scared shitless of making a change whose utility God has made so clear to her.  A student is so self-deprecating to the point of ridiculousness, until you have the temerity to point out something she might change that she herself has not mentioned – then she gets immediately defensive.  Another student made a cogent criticism of our approach in a required paper, and I notice my own reluctance to change our approach rears its familiar head.  Ain’t that the way it goes?

We are all reluctant and resistant to entering this new era of economic contraction, even though we have all had reason to decry this period of headlong speed, where we were all so busy with making money and getting upwardly mobile that we could hardly take our eyes off the road ahead.  Now perhaps we can slow down, turn to each other, start bartering instead of buying for instance, and see the real value of the people on the journey with us, instead of – I actually saw my daughter do this – walking up to someone you’re talking on cell phones and actually stand in the other person’s presence, still on the phone with them.

Although I have been personally hit and hit hard by the imaginary number of my ‘net worth’ retracting, I have been trying to ‘go with the flow’ by appreciating in mind and body the value that will accrue over time to being off that yardstick, and on to something more real.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven – makes more sense than it did a few months ago.  So often I have been dragged, kicking and screaming and heels dug in, into my future – a future that, when looked back upon as past, seems ineluctable, and my reluctance a ridiculous resistance to a reliably revealed emergent reality.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: