Resistance, Surrender & Perfect Alchemy


(This article was also published on Rebelle Society)

Deep down in the black department of my soul I’m a bloody pervert. I enjoy pain so much.
It’s like my secret elixir that keeps me going, seeking. My feelings: intense, desperate, viscerally deep and aching, alive – so I’m staying awake.
If it’s getting too comfortable, I’m morphing into a lazy, slow, dull version of myself that’s pretty boring and doesn’t do any good. No inspiration, no drama – what’s the point, eh?
That’s why I need pain. I’m addicted to suffering.
Nothing else keeps me busy and consumed, granting full access to my psyche, the mysteries of the Universe, parallel realms and sources of otherworldly wisdom; to the abysses where my gold is hidden.
So I dive into the depths, burning my soul again and again. Until eventually only the essence will remain – my incombustible core.

It’s called Alchemy.

And my sure-fire tool for fueling this process, for keeping the heat at the highest level possible, is resistance.The saying goes that already at my birth I resisted to enter this world. I had an utter aversion against life. I refused to eat, to drink or to be fed. I went pro in taking no shit right from the start.

I might have taken it too seriously, practiced this skill too excessively. But hey, I could sense even back then that I was sent here on Earth to accomplish great things!

Like getting several highly decorated degrees in having no clue but rejecting any advice and authority (they knew, you know…). Can’t stand it when someone just knows what I should do, how I should live my life, my life! So I earned my PHD in “NO!!!!” (I’m fluent in all kinds, flavors and expressions of NO, my specialty is passive-aggressive rebellion).

And even now, when I’m broke, stuck, screwed –

I still manage to hold my head up high, thoroughly maintaining my hard-earned level of resistance.

This dark pervert part in me has the lead, still. It is crazy, mad, irresponsible – but so fucking strong and powerful. It’s holding the reins of my life with an iron fist.

It also has a counterpart, a nice and reasonable one, which is fully aware of the enormousness of the disaster which I am poignantly, lovingly calling my life, and which is begging me on sore knees to take the next step. It’s not telling me to stop, because it’s a smarty pant, this begging bugger.

AlchemyImage Source

What it is doing instead is trying to lure me with a challenge:

I don’t have to give up being an Alchemist.

But I could climb higher on the ladder and refine my technique. Alchemizing resistance into surrender.

Dude, Universe! Me? Letting go of resistance???
I *am* high-end resistance in person! Want me to lose my identity?

I know, I know… This process would be all the more rewarding because of it. Because – I guess – the result, coming from this pure and concentrated form of resistance, would be the most complete, soft, melted liquid golden surrender the world has ever seen.

But although I know how big the reward (sadly, trying to motivate me with promising rewards never evoked my interest, but pain works well quite often… of course), whenever I try to “just make a resolution” to choose surrender instead of resistance… *boom* – some area in my life gets shattered into pieces, making sure I’m going to stay in this place of deliciously lucid pain.

Who would voluntarily want to leave this behind for “surrender”? I don’t know surrender – who can tell whether it’s going to be worth to let the suffering go? And after all I’m proud of my high-quality-resistance!
It’s all I’ve really got.

But hey, I think in fact I do know surrender, man! I’m even brilliant at it – I’ve totally surrendered my life to resistance, a source of pain that’s never going to run dry. The work of a genius. Mastering what seems like paradox.

Perfect Alchemy – in resistance I surrender.


featured image – Source


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