The voice of resistance is one of the voices battered by my approach to self-inquiry... Put down, tried set aside, ignored, not wanted, resisted, disowned, placed in the shadow.
It is a subtle disowning compared to what is possible when there is a strong sense of a separate I and a particular identity, but also a crass disowning compared to how it can be when all is allowed.
Other voices pushed away in this process may be the sense of I, hangups, contractions, and duality. And the voices identified with when these are pushed away, are the voice of self-inquiry, of seeking (seeking to realize selflessness.), and maybe even the voice of seeing selflessness.
The irony is of course that in the process of attempting to allow all, some are pushed away and resisted.
Compassion for what is disowned
As I write this, I notice a good deal of compassion coming up for these disowned voices.
And this compassion is similar to the compassion that has come up lately for the vulnerable animal, this human self as a vulnerable animal, sometimes confused, scared, contracted, reactive, blindly wanting, trying to protect a particular identity, loving and hating, trying to survive, find its way in the world for the short time it is around. This vulnerable animal is a voice in itself, and it is also the reason all the personal voices are around, it is what the personal voices serve, guide and protect.
Voices to dialog with
So some voices to explore for me right now may be...
Voice of resistance - voice of allowing, sense of I - Big Mind, contractions, hangups, duality - nonduality, self-inquiry, seeking mind - nonseeking mind, seeing selflessness, the vulnerable animal, and maybe even Big Belly (the voice of endarkenment.)
How do they each serve the self? How do they function right now? Are they appreciated? How are they treated? How can they serve the self better? How can the self serve them better?
What is alive in pushing away
As I write this, the quality that comes up when certain things are pushed away, such as resistance, is very much alive.
The hardness of it. The sense of pushing away. Of a split. The aggression of it. A sense of something to protect and defend. A sense of the possibility of the wall breaking down and being invaded by what I am trying to push away and defend against. The precariousness of the situation. The paranoia that comes with it.
Always looking for signs of the wall breaking down. The ambivalence towards life and other people, not knowing what they may say or do that can threaten the identity built up around this. The energy that goes into building up a particular identity, and holding what is on the other side of the wall at bay... at all cost, in any situation. It is terrible, but also seems so desperately necessary.
Until it isn't. When the wall falls, it is OK. But that is certainly not how it seems when the wall is up, when all energy is used to keep it up, to defend against what is on the other side... whether it is certain experiences, disowned voices, human qualities not included in our self-identity.