Attuning to Change: From Resistance to Flow

Everywhere I look, I see change.  And I’m sure you do too.

Change is the Essence of the Dao. Change is Qi moving through our bodies, through plants, animals, and all life. It is the nature of the Qi to flow, and the way of the Dao.

Our universe is continuously changing. It is dynamic and evolving. We are, perhaps, insignificant participants in an ongoing cosmic expansion that began at the dawn of time. Stars are forming and dying, planets and solar systems are taking shape and evolving, galaxies are colliding and merging. Even the moon—our moon—which seems to circle us so quietly and regularly, is slowly drifting away from Earth at about 1.5 inches per year.

At the other end of the spectrum, change is also happening on a microscopic level. When we contemplate a desert, a mountain, or the ocean, change may seem absent, but lasting shifts are occurring right under our eyes. The Earth’s physical landscape is in constant transformation through processes such as the movement of tectonic plates, erosion, volcanic activity, internal heat changes, and even subtle gravitational variations.

And the same is true for us. We are constantly changing, whether we want to or not. Take our physical bodies, for example: our cells renew daily; the intestinal lining regenerates every 3–4 days; skin cell turnover takes about 28 days; liver cells typically renew once a year; a complete bone remodeling cycle takes around 10 years. Even our brains are in flux—it’s estimated that humans produce between 700 and 1,500 new neurons each day in the hippocampus.

Then there are political, cultural, social, economic, technological, demographic, and environmental changes—those over which we have no control. The ones we did not ask for, expect, or wish for. And this is without even mentioning the changes that affect us personally: illness, the loss of a loved one, losing a job…

Sometimes, we barely keep up.

And sometimes, we are the ones who decide it’s time for change. We may sense something is about to break, and that it’s time to act.

If you recall a recent change you’ve experienced (or perhaps one you are going through right now), you might remember how disorienting it was—especially when it was a “big” change.

Change—whether “good” or “bad,” unexpected or initiated—is experienced as tension, discomfort, disruption… in a word: stress. Stress is the natural human response to change. Eustress, or “good stress,” is a positive, motivating force that can enhance performance and lead to a sense of accomplishment. Distress, or “bad stress,” is, on the other hand, an overwhelming reaction that, if too intense or prolonged, can harm our physical and mental health.

Just as our universe is expanding at an accelerating pace under the influence of dark energy, our world is also speeding up in every direction. And that means one thing: uncertainty.  Because change now emerges faster than ever—often suddenly and unpredictably—life has become increasingly stressful. This is not unlike the root of many trauma in humans: an event becomes traumatic when it overwhelms our capacity to cope.  When it’s too much, too fast.

Resistance

In this climate of complexity, uncertainty, and acceleration, our ability to respond appropriately has been strained. As human beings, we have always had the capacity to adapt and go with the flow—that’s how we have evolved. But now… it seems too much. Too many changes at the same time, too quickly. Where we once could follow, now it is harder to “face the music.”

In my practice, because people come to me when they are facing an unwished-for disruption in their life, or, at the other extreme, when they wish to initiate a significant transformation—more energy, better health, a quieter mind— I see both eustress and distress.

Deep in our bones, we know that nothing stays the same forever. Everything is moving, flowing, shifting. Nothing is permanent—whether it’s the good, the bad, the beautiful, or the ugly. And yet, we resist. This is the human predicament.

What I have noticed most in my practice is that it’s not the change itself that creates the most suffering—it’s the resistance. I’m not speaking of the kind of resistance that is necessary and life-affirming: an act of radical self-love in the face of a culture that tells us we are only valuable if we do more, move faster, and never stop. That kind of resistance is a quiet, reflective conviction that we are enough as we are, and that NO CHANGE is required.

I am speaking of the resistance that comes from fear. In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield writes:

“The degree of fear equates to the strength of Resistance. Therefore, the more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul. That’s why we feel so much Resistance. If it meant nothing to us, there’d be no Resistance.” 

Sometimes, being paralyzed with fear is a signpost—it shows us what we must do, the direction in which we should walk.

What we truly resist is not change itself, but the experience of change passing through us. We don’t want to feel the disruption, the tension, the discomfort. We don’t want to feel the stress. And because this resistance arises as a form of protection, it is, in a way, also an expression of self-love.

But resistance consumes a tremendous amount of energy. Michael Singer explains:

“Generally, we resist one of two things: that which has already happened or that which hasn’t happened yet… Since the event has already passed, you are actually struggling with yourself, not with the event… Since most of the things you think might happen never do, you are just throwing your energy away.”

While we are busy resisting the past or the future, we are not meeting the change happening right now. Our energy leaks away until we are depleted—or it stagnates until we are blocked. In time, this stuck or drained Qi leads to burnout or complete shutdown.

Attuning to Change

The truth is, we do not have to resist or burn out. Change can be approached differently—it can be attuned to. Attunement does not mean abandoning oneself. It means opening to the unknown.

Change, by its nature, is unknown until it arrives. Uncertainty is its very essence. The best way to keep going, despite the enormous uncertainty we live with, is to remain open—to attune both to change and to ourselves—so we can cultivate the inner qualities needed to respond wisely and fluidly.

I often think of the caterpillar. One day, it stops eating, hangs upside down, and wraps itself in a cocoon. Inside this protective casing, it undergoes a radical transformation before emerging as a butterfly.

We marvel at the butterfly’s beauty, but rarely at the caterpillar and the journey it must take. I’m reminded of a quote from Alejandro Jodorowsky, who speaks to the surrender required for transformation:

“If the caterpillar thinks about the butterfly it is to become, saying, ‘And then I shall have wings and antennae,’ there will never be a butterfly. The caterpillar must accept its own disappearance in its transformation. When the marvelous butterfly takes wing, nothing of the caterpillar remains.”

Resources for Change

I believe we, too, carry within us the deep capacity to accept transformation—to stop fighting against change, and instead adapt, harmonize, and attune to it. This way, we can offer the best possible response at the right time, whether the challenge is personal, social, or global.

And as we move through change, we are cultivating resilience.

Think again back on a major life change. Which positive aspects were you able to hold on to? How did you do it?

What makes the difference in navigating change is our ability to reach into our inner resources. Each of us carries unique treasures within, waiting for the right moment to be put to use.  Yet, in the middle of the storm, we often forget them. This is when we need a mentor, a compass, to remind us they are there and to help us activate them—so we can find balance, stability, and strength no matter what change we face.

For me, one of those guiding tools is the I Ching, the Book of Changes. At its heart is the understanding that we can align our intention and attention to create harmony with change. It is a timely guide for our times, offering insights far beyond conventional advice. It shows us how to respond—rather than react—and to live in greater harmony with our environment, others, and ourselves.

Change will continue to arrive—sometimes gently, sometimes like a storm. We may not control its timing or its form, but we can choose how we meet it. By attuning to ourselves and the flow of life, we can navigate change not as something to fear, but as an invitation to grow, transform, and expand into the fullest expression of who we are.