Writing · Patterns & Parts
Why Change Takes More Energy at First
Our familiar reactions may create suffering over time, yet still require less energy in the moment. Healing begins when another path becomes available.
Vadim Zeland’s concept of the “alternatives flow” offers an interesting way to understand why shifting our reactions can be so difficult—even when we genuinely want to change.
In Reality Transurfing, alternatives are the many possible ways a situation, or our life, could unfold. Zeland describes movement among these possibilities as the “alternatives flow,” which tends to follow the path requiring the least expenditure of energy.
And by energy, I don’t just mean physical energy. I mean emotional, mental, and psychological energy too.
Think about what happens when someone says something that hurts you.
There are many possible ways you could respond.
You might become defensive. Shut down. Explain yourself. Get angry. People-please. Pull away.
Or you could pause.
You could notice what is happening inside you. You could feel the urge to defend yourself without immediately acting on it. You could become curious about your reaction, listen to the other person, and choose how you want to respond.
That second path may sound simple.
But it often requires much more energy—especially when it is new.
Our protectors prefer familiar roads
From a parts perspective, the path of least energy is often simply the path our protectors already know.
If I learned early in life to keep the peace by pleasing people, people-pleasing may happen before I even realize I’m doing it. It is my automatic response—the pathway with the least resistance and, in the moment, the least energy expenditure.
If I learned that conflict isn’t safe, withdrawing might be automatic.
If worrying has helped me feel prepared for uncertainty, my mind may immediately begin imagining everything that could go wrong.
If control once created a sense of safety, I may tighten my grip whenever life feels uncertain.
These responses aren’t necessarily happening because we consciously chose them.
They are well-traveled pathways in our system.
Our protectors know the route well.
They’ve traveled it thousands of times.
Familiar doesn’t necessarily mean easier
This is where it gets interesting.
The familiar response may create more suffering in the long run while still requiring less energy in the moment.
Avoiding a conversation may eventually create more disconnection.
People-pleasing may lead to resentment.
Worrying may exhaust us.
Procrastinating may create more stress later.
But in that immediate moment, these responses do not require us to create something new. Our system already knows how to do them.
This is one reason we can find ourselves wondering:
Why am I doing this again when I know better?
Because knowing better and having another pathway available to us in the moment are not quite the same thing.
Growth requires a little more energy at first
This also connects beautifully with what I’ve been exploring around Upper Limits.
Something new becomes available—more love, ease, connection, success, intimacy, visibility, or abundance—and suddenly our familiar patterns appear.
We worry.
We find a problem.
We procrastinate.
We create conflict.
We pull back.
We convince ourselves it isn’t going to work.
Not necessarily because we don’t want what is coming toward us, but because the familiar route requires less from our system than stepping into something it hasn’t yet learned how to hold.
The old path is already there.
The new one has to be made.
This is where awareness becomes so important.
Growth asks us to interrupt the automatic route long enough to notice that another possibility exists—not by fighting our protectors or forcing ourselves to change, but by creating a little space between the impulse and the response.
Maybe the practice becomes:
I know this road.
I’ve been down this road many times.
Before I automatically take it again, is there another path available to me?
The new path can become familiar too
This might be my favorite part.
What requires effort today will not necessarily require the same effort forever.
Every time we pause instead of react…
Every time we speak instead of withdraw…
Every time we tolerate a little uncertainty instead of immediately trying to control it…
Every time we stay present with discomfort instead of escaping it…
We are practicing another way of being.
Over time, what once required a tremendous amount of awareness can begin to feel more natural.
The pause becomes more familiar.
Staying becomes more familiar.
Speaking for ourselves becomes more familiar.
Trust becomes more familiar.
Choice becomes more familiar.
The unfamiliar road becomes one our system learns how to travel.
Perhaps healing isn’t about never taking the old road again.
It’s about reaching the intersection, noticing the familiar road our system wants to take, and realizing:
Oh. There’s another way I can go now.