Reflection is the first act of resistance

Reclaiming ourselves in the systems that shape us.

Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

If the systems around us shape who we are, then reflection may be how we reclaim our story within the system. In reflection, we step outside the busyness and noise of everyday life to pause, question, and make meaning. When life constantly pulls us in different directions, reflection becomes an act of resistance, allowing us to reclaim ourselves in systems that often define us before we define ourselves.

In this context, though, reflection isn’t just about looking back; it’s about gaining clarity in the present and making conscious choices about the future, asking ourselves, “Who am I becoming within this system? Is this the life I want to lead?”

I don’t think reflection is easy. I spent much of my life avoiding it in favor of continually moving forward. Reflection is challenging for me, and perhaps it is for you, too, because it requires self-honesty, discomfort, and a willingness to confront parts of ourselves we’d rather not shine a light on. But it’s also transformative. Reflection connects the dots between our actions and values, our choices and consequences, and the person we are and the person we’re striving to be. Without it, we risk being swept along by the systems around us, living reactively instead of intentionally.

Reflection and the systems we move through

When I think about the systems in my life—family, work, friendships, community—they’re not just places where I exist. They are dynamic environments that shape me, pulling me in subtle ways. Each of these systems offers its own script: Be successful. Don’t rock the boat. Stay busy. Make money (a lot of it). They whisper expectations that are rarely spoken aloud. Some scripts provide structure and guidance, but others can feel like invisible constraints, locking me into roles I didn’t consciously choose yet are deeply ingrained.

A few years ago, this came to a head for me in one of my doctoral classes, Use of Self as an Agent of Change, with David Jamieson and the late Mee Yan Chueng-Judge. Dr. Cheung-Judge challenged me in a way I wasn’t expecting, but ultimately needed when she asked how we might show up in a particular work situation. My response was, “It depends.”

“It does not depend!” she said, following with “May I make an observation?”

“Sure,” I said.

“You have spent your whole life being a good boy. It’s time for you to be a bad boy,” she said.

She didn’t mean I should suddenly start being a ‘bad’ person. Instead, she meant that I should stop conforming to other people’s expectations of me in any given situation. Her words struck a chord. I should, she suggested, look to integrate all of who I am into the best version of myself and show up fully as myself in all situations, with the intention to make them better (or at least not make them worse). Otherwise, it takes a lot of effort and energy to keep switching between who we are and who everyone wants us to be in every system we engage. That was a pivotal moment for me in understanding the concept of self-reflection and purpose.

Carl Jung’s concept of the ‘shadow’ is deeply relevant here. The shadow represents the parts of ourselves that we suppress, deny, or disown, often because they don’t align with the roles or norms that systems impose on us[1]. Family systems, for instance, might teach us that conflict is to be avoided, leading us to suppress anger or assertiveness. Professional systems may reward compliance and productivity, encouraging us to bury creativity, vulnerability, or dissent. Without reflection, we risk not only suppressing these parts of ourselves but forgetting they exist at all.

Jung suggested that shadow work invites us to turn toward these hidden parts of ourselves[2]. This work is not about eliminating the shadow but integrating it. It’s a reflective process of acknowledging what we’ve suppressed and exploring how it shows up in our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. For example, when I react strongly to a colleague or family member, reflection helps me ask, “Is this about them, or is it about something in me that I’ve avoided facing?” More often than not, the answer lies in my shadow, shaped by years of unexamined dynamics within the systems I inhabit.

Jamieson and Cheung-Judge’s work on the Use of Self [3] builds on these ideas by emphasizing the importance of self-awareness in systemic contexts. They argue that who we are, our beliefs, biases, values, and blind spots inevitably shape how we show up in systems. Whether or not we’re aware of it, we bring our whole selves into every interaction. Reflection, in this sense, is a tool for conscious self-management. It allows us to ask:

• How am I influencing this system?

• Where do my reactions reflect my own inner work, rather than the external situation?

• What part of myself am I bringing into this dynamic and is it helping or hindering?

Through reflection, we can bridge the gap between intention and impact. We begin to notice how our internal world, specifically our thoughts, emotions, and unexamined patterns, shapes how we engage with external systems. This awareness not only enhances our personal growth but also enables us to contribute more effectively and authentically to the systems we’re part of. This is not to say that we won’t feel interpersonal tension when we ‘go against’ the system.

The tension between agency and influence

The systems around us operate like rivers with strong currents that guide us along paths we may not have chosen. Sometimes, these currents align with who we are, carrying us forward in ways that feel natural and right. Other times, they drag us in directions that leave us questioning ourselves. Reflection is what helps us step out of the river, even briefly, to examine where we’re headed and whether it’s where we want to go.

Otto Scharmer’s work, particularly his Theory U, seems helpful. Scharmer emphasizes the importance of pausing to sense, reflect, and connect with deeper sources of knowing before taking action[4]. In systems that prioritize speed and productivity, this approach feels almost radical. But Scharmer’s framework reminds us that deep transformation within ourselves and the systems we’re part of requires slowing down and tuning in. Reflection is not a luxury; it’s a necessary step in the process of transformation.

At the same time, reflection requires humility. There are limits to what we can change, especially within larger societal systems. For example, issues like systemic inequities or cultural biases often feel overwhelming, their roots too deep to untangle alone. But even in these spaces, reflection helps us distinguish between what we can influence and what we must learn to navigate.

In my own journey, I’ve found that reflection within systems often leads to a deeper understanding of myself—not just my role, but my values. It forces me to ask, “What do I stand for? What will I hold on to, even when the system pushes back?” Those questions are clarifying. They remind me that even in the most challenging systems, I have a choice about how I show up.

Yet, the act of reflection is not just about understanding where we are in the current, it’s about reclaiming our ability to navigate it. While we may not always control the systems that shape our lives, we can control how we engage with them. Reflection creates the space to see both the forces at plan and our own capacity to respond. It allow us to recognize where we have agency and where our influence may be more limited, helping us to act with intention, rather than react with emotion.

This tension between agency and influence is precisely why reflection must be a practice, not just an occasional pause. It is through ongoing reflection that we define our understanding of where we can create change, where we must adapt, and where we must resist.

Engaging in the practice of reflection

Reflection doesn’t have to be formal or time-consuming. Sometimes it’s as simple as sitting with a question: “What am I learning right now?” “How am I being shaped by this system?” For me, reflection often happens in the quiet moments of the day, on a walk, during a morning coffee, or while drawing, for example.

One of the most transformative parts of reflection is learning to ask the right questions. These questions create a kind of roadmap, guiding us deeper into our own experience:

• What unspoken rules am I following in this system?

• Where have I been conforming instead of choosing?

• What expectations have I internalized, and do they truly align with my values?

• Where am I reacting out of fear rather than acting with courage?

These questions help uncover the hidden dynamics at play, both within the system and within us.

One of the things we can learn from shadow work and Use of Self explorations is that reflection is most powerful when it leads to action. It’s one thing to recognize that a system influences us in unhealthy ways; it’s another to make a change. Reflection helps us see the patterns, but it’s the choices we make afterward that determine how we move forward.

Reflection doesn’t just help us see the systems around us, it helps us see ourselves within them. And in that seeing, we begin to create space for something new. Perhaps this is why reflection is the first act of resistance: it’s how we reclaim ourselves in systems that shape us, choosing not just to exist within them, but instead to engage them with awareness, intention, and agency.

---

Reflections on the Journey

At the midlife point, I can see how reflection has been both a guide and a mirror in my life. It’s helped me navigate complicated systems, showing me where I’ve been stuck, where I’ve grown, and where I still have work to do. But it’s also been a mirror, reflecting back parts of myself I didn’t always want to see.

There have been moments when reflection felt overwhelming, particularly when the questions led to answers I wasn’t ready for. But even in those moments, the act of reflecting itself became an anchor. It reminded me that growth isn’t always linear, and clarity doesn’t always come all at once.

As you think about your own journey, here are some questions that might guide your reflection:

• Who am I becoming within the systems I’m part of?

• What patterns in my behavior reflect the systems I’ve grown up in?

• Where do I feel tension between my values and the systems I’m navigating?

• What aspects of myself have I suppressed to fit into these systems?

• What is one small step I can take to show up more authentically?

These are clearly not questions with easy answers. But they’re the kinds of questions that, over time, can lead to personal transformation. Reflection doesn’t just help us see the systems around us; it helps us see ourselves within them. And in that seeing, we begin to create space for something new.

When I reflect on my own journey, I realize how much of my growth has come from being willing to sit with these questions, even when the answers were messy or incomplete. It’s not about having everything figured out. It’s about staying curious, staying honest, and trusting that the act of reflection itself is part of the journey.

Peace,

David

---

[1] Carl G. Jung, Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of Self, 2nd edition, vol. Volume 9, Part 2 (Princeton University Press, 1979).

[2] Jung.

[3] Mee-Yan Cheung-Judge and David W Jamieson, “Providing Deeper Understanding of the Concept of Use of Self in OD Practice” 50, no. 4 (2018): 11;

Mee-Yan Cheung-Judge, “The Self as an Instrument - A Cornerstone for the Future of OD.,” OD Practitioner 33, no. 3 (2001): 11–16;

Mee-Yan Cheung-Judge, “Use of Self Lecture” (Course Lecture, Bowling Green State University, January 2021);

David W. Jamieson, “Advancing Thinking and Practice on Use of Self,” Organization Development Journal 37, no. 1 (2019): 1–15;

David W. Jamieson, Matthew Auron, and David Shechtman, “Managing Use of Self for Masterful Professional Practice,” OD Practitioner 42, no. 3 (2010): 8.

[4] C. Otto Scharmer, Theory U: Leading from the Future as It Emerges, 1st edition (San Francisco, Calif: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2009).