It wasn't Mary who was contrary

I was a resistant child. Whenever my mother told me to do something faster, I slowed down. Regardless of what started this reaction, it's become a reflex for me. An authoritative deman doesn't even have to be stated--any tacit requirement or exhortation can be cause for rebellion. An example: I know Sam hates to be late, and I love him and want him to be happy; however, this knowledge and love does not keep me from dawdling when we have to be somewhere. It's a pretty terrible thing to do and difficult to work against, for me and for others.

I resist even my own self-directed urging. I know I have to write. I want myself to write, and I chose to be at Vanderbilt so that I can do this work. I chose this work. I need to get it done, and I will feel so much better afterwards. If I can just get started on it, I'll even enjoy it. I love doing this work.

But that certainty does not quell the voice of my six-year-old self: "I don't want to. You can't make me. Ow! Stop pinching me! Okay, I'll do it, I guess." 

Contrary. Intractible. Recalcitrant. Truculent. Obstinate. Obdurate. Stubborn. Headstrong.

Headstrong's good. Now, if we can only phase-shift that quality into a more productive kind of determination, maybe I can trick myself. 

Bonus: a new phrase I learned today is "lissajous curve." Here's an example of one.