40 to 40: Resilience

I turn 40 years old in 40 weeks.?I'm using this as an excuse to reflect on (what I hope is) the first half of my life, capturing 40 lessons learned as I count down to my birthday.

Today I'm thinking about resilience.

My thinking on this topic has changed a lot. To my younger self, resilience was all about what I could do. Nowadays I think about how others foster my resilience.

This evolution can be understood through the sequence of images I considered for the banner photo. At first I was looking at images of a person or plant in an inhospitable environment. It communicated a message along the lines of "I can thrive no matter how tough things get."

This didn't sit right with me, though. I kept scrolling through images and feeling vaguely dissatisfied. Then I came across a picture with two people in it, and I paused. This framing felt more accurate for some reason. I tweaked my search terms until I was looking at images of a group surrounding a single person. After that it took about 30 seconds to find an image I liked.

Why did I have such a hard time finding a picture of resilience that resonated? Why did I start with one set of keywords and completely change them? Selecting images for the posts on faith and friendship was much easier.

The solitary image of resilience is hard to shake. Even when we know this isn't an accurate portrayal, we still default to it. The American thinking around resilience mostly focuses on what we can do as individuals to become more resilient, as if it is a personality trait.

We're told it is possible to get back up each time we're knocked down. Not just possible, desirable. Or maybe even necessary. So if we can't get back up on our own, it must mean there's something wrong with us. We're weak, pathetic, to be pitied.

Resiliency focused on the individual often gets conflated with the concept of a growth mindset. As the term's originator Carol Dweck summarizes: "Individuals who believe their talents can be developed (through hard work, good strategies, and input from others) have a growth mindset. They tend to achieve more than those with a more fixed mindset (those who believe their talents are innate gifts)."

Taken to the extreme, this narrow view of resilience looks like the advice in David Goggins' bestseller Can't Hurt Me or this epic scene from Rocky Balboa (start @ 1:25).

Let me be clear: I'm a sucker for this genre. I read David's book. I actually enjoyed it a lot. I am also a huge fan for all things Rocky. I can quote most of this scene from memory.

The problem is simple. These aren't describing resilience. They are describing a narrow view of individual strength, independence, and autonomy that bleeds over into isolation.

It's taken me a long time to realize that resilience is not about a person. It's about the people around that person. I cannot "be resilient" on my own. Others do it. My family and friends surround me with the love that creates resilience for me.

Resilience is something others create for you, not something you have.        

Resilience is about being at the nexus of many relationships, and relying on those relationships when needed. This isn't some some heroic act, nor should it be. Resilience is actually a natural state if -- and this is a big if -- we are honest with those around us. We all feel the urge to step up to help the people we love. That urge only kicks in, though, when we're aware of the need for help.

A person has to explicitly state the need. Resilience starts there. If someone tells others what he or she needs, that invites others to come in and create resilience.

Between the stresses of the pandemic, family, finances, work, and moving across the country, it would be logical to assume the last year has been one of my most stressful. Instead what I've found is a surprising resilience. My interwoven relationships have created resilience for me, and even allowed me enough margin to create resilience for others.

This is a far cry from where I was even a few years ago. I used to see resilience as strength, as grit, as bouncing back, and doing it all on my own. This had the benefit of inflaming my ego and occasionally impressing the people around, but it was also exhausting to the point of being unsustainable.

Resilience is critical in modern life, so we better figure out how to foster it. Maybe I've swung the pendulum too far in my thinking, but I doubt it. If anything, I may end up practicing ever-greater versions of relational resilience. After all, I'm only a few years away from having two teenagers in the house!