Twice a week, every Monday and Wednesday morning at 9:30 a.m., I drive my wife to her stable and wait for her to finish, giving me roughly two hours of downtime.

Although I occasionally play around with my photography there (see my photo above of one of the more spirited horses at the stable), usually I choose on doing one of two tasks: writing a blog post or reading a non-fiction book.

Both have value to me. I post a blog every day, so I always have to look for opportunities to write. However, I also need to research for some of my larger writing projects, and my stables-time is a true downtime opportunity, one with—other than my iPhone—minimal digital distractions.

So, how do I choose?

Here I reach into one of the most valuable “self-help” books ever written (although undoubtedly the author would cringe at this categorization): Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art.

In it he develops—or perhaps more appropriately phrased, unmasks—a malignant entity he calls The Resistance.

The Resistance is the thing that distracts you, tricks you, cajoles you, shames you, nudges you, and undercuts you—all with the intent of deflecting you from your purpose. It is a soul-crusher.

However, it does have one redeeming quality. It can also be your North Star.

You see, The Resistance is at its strongest when it is trying to deflect you from your most essential work ( don’t worry, it will never raise its ugly head if you are considering whether to binge-watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Game of Thrones), and you can use that to your advantage. If The Resistance nudges me left, then I know I need to move right.

For example, in my case, writing a blog post is the more creatively active, difficult, and essential task than reading passively1. The Resistance knows this and, therefore, will always try to nudge me towards reading. That’s my clue to knowing that my time is best spent writing.

So thank you, Resistance, for being my North Star. You may want to destroy me if you are the best guide a writer can have.

  1. There is a type of reading I call active, deep reading, with pen and notebook in hand. It’s a reading approach in which I am trying to make an article, a passage, or a book a part of me. For me, this type of reading requires intense focus and quiet—not something compatible with the horse stable my wife attends.