A slow waltz with the saboteur
Sabotage. Closely allied to resistance, it prevents us from doing our best work.
A sneaky creature, the saboteur shows up when we encounter anything that requires us to change; when we’ve made an intention, or want to place our attention, onto something that will allow us to grow.
It keeps us in the realm of the comfortable and the familiar. If we stay here, we won’t have the capacity to go beyond our confines; to experience more aliveness or expansiveness, and to access those places where, we might be of most service to others.
Unfortunately, the saboteur can be difficult to eradicate. As with resistance, it’s pointless trying to suppress it or pretend it doesn’t exist.
Fortunately, we can learn to accept it, even work with it, if we know how.
Ultimately, the saboteur is a one-dimensional being. It works on the level of the mind, attacking our self-confidence and sense of self-worth. It works insidiously on our thoughts about ourselves and, most often, our imaginings about what might or might not happen. It pulls us away from the presence of the present and into the realm of the future: what if the thing I’m doing goes wrong? What if I’m judged for it? What if I’m not up to the job?
If we remain alert, we spot sabotage coming before it’s completely upon us. For this, though, we need resources. We need a level of self-knowledge, awareness of when and in what situations sabotage is likely to turn up. If we suspect it’s coming, we can be on the lookout. Like a sentry standing on the ramparts of a castle about to be invaded, we can adopt a pose of awareness. We need to watch carefully because—like the attackers in Shakespeare’s Macbeth creeping towards Dunsinane disguised as Birnam Wood—sabotage might be camouflaged.
This constant vigilance doesn’t mean we have to suffer tense muscles or a tight belly. If we choose, we have the capacity to wait in a state of relaxed alertness. Because, while the saboteur works at the level of the mind, we human beings can harness our other superpowers, our ability to access other dimensions. We can access the body and its many resources. When called for, we can move like martial arts practitioners, in any direction; to make space for the opponent to move into.
Martial arts practitioners deploy empty space, moving into it to outwit their opponent. They don’t strike. There’s no need for violence.
We can do this by pausing when we sense sabotage approaching, and quietening ourselves. By listening to what’s around us and to the quiet voice of intuition as it bubbles up. We can practise being in space, tuning into what’s above us or behind us, just out of our field of vision. By standing still, taking a few deep belly breaths and feeling into what we notice around us. What’s the quality of air and light? What sensations do you feel above your head, at your back, at either side, around your hips and ribs?
We can also practise this by physically moving into empty spaces to give the body the experience of turning its attention in one direction, of intentionality. This is a dance of sorts but we don’t need to be ‘dancers’ to do this. We don’t even need music. We just allow the conversation with sabotage be the only soundtrack we need to accompany it in a slow waltz.
How can we work with sabotage rather than against it? How can we listen and try to understand what it means for us? Its role, after all, is to protect us, to keep us safe. There is a part of the saboteur that needs to be honoured and for which we can feel grateful. If we show it compassion, its grip on us lessens.
So, can we think of sabotage as a calling, an invitation to move into the empty space of the realm of spirit? Can we harness resources in that realm, too? In the pursuit of a bigger vision and purpose, let’s call on those entities who might guide us: our mentors and leaders, alive or dead. Let’s leverage the immense power we have—our human awareness of what’s beyond this immediate, material reality—and partner with sabotage so that it leads us, consistently, into that realm so we can do our best work.