500 Words On….Resistance.
So goes the threat, warning, or merely informational greeting (depending on your viewpoint upon hearing it, I suppose) of the Borg.
The Borg have no sense of humor, and they don’t bluff. If they say you will be assimilated – well, it’ll take a lot of fight to prove them wrong.
I’ve been known to be pretty good at resisting. I think that can be said of most of us who are looked upon by others, and maybe even ourselves, as stubborn.
It can be a good thing, to resist, if I am resisting an impulse that leads to harm for someone.
Other times, though, resistance is not only futile, but actually self-destructive.
Some things simply are, and cannot be changed. As much as I wish it might be otherwise, Elijah died. As much as I might wish it to be otherwise, Jim was involved in a serious, life-threatening motorcycle accident a little less than two months ago, and, whether I or he or anyone else resists it, the lingering repercussions will be a part of our lives for quite some time to come.
As much as I might wish it to be otherwise, I cannot have peaceable relationships with certain of my family members, despite having spent the maority of my life resisting that knowledge – knowledge that I suspected long before I allowed myself to fully and consciously accept the fact of it.
Until then, I resisted. I capitulated. I apologized for wrongs I did not feel I had committed, accepted the responsibility of atoning for crimes that were of far lesser magnitude than those they inflicted upon me. I allowed those who disregarded my well-being, who hurt me intentionally as a way to feel better about themselves or to punish me, do so with impunity.
More than once, I returned to the strongholds (in our family, the homes) of those who had physically, emotionally, and verbally abused me.
Once there, I watched my every step, every word, every action, knowing without doubt that I was being constantly watched and assessed. Those who assessed might appear sweet and friendly, or aloof and disinterested, or anywhere in between.
But I knew that, if their moods shifted, there would be another attack.
And still, I resisted, acquiesced, tried to get along despite knowing that, sooner or later, there would be rage, pain, and suffering. I resisted because I needed to be loved just for myself, as myself, even when I screwed up.
Always, I believed that I was somehow to blame for the rage and ugliness of those moments – until the day that two of my siblings spent 18 hours in a torrent of ugly and sometimes slanderous comments on my Facebook wall, because I had posted a general comment that they took objection too.
I had been away from my computer for the first 12 hours or so, and had contributed nothing, and yet the attacks went on and on….
From that point, I began to release my resistance. The thing is, when something is not right in my world, energy will be required to set things right. If I give some of my energy to resisting the facts, I have thrown that energy away, making the problem larger.
Resistance is futile.
I’ve stopped resisting the family dynamic – nor do I tolerate abuse. I simply accept each family member as they are – and avoid any private interactions with those who may become abusive.
Not perfect, maybe – but far more peaceful than resisting truth. I have been assimilated, and that is healing.
- Resistance is futile (succinctscrutinies.wordpress.com)
- D is for Defiance (mommasmoneymatters.com)
- Borg Cube vs Death Star (neatorama.com)
- Cloud Computing Expert Says ‘Resistance Is Futile’ (detroit.cbslocal.com)
- Resistance (horizonsofsignificance.wordpress.com)
- Star Trek/Doctor Who Crossover Coming this May from IDW (comicbooked.com)