In the face of these unprecedented, ridiculous, amazing, horrifying circumstances, it feels like a lot of old ideas are up for review. One of those old ideas is resilience, a subject I’ve been thinking about quite a bit lately. Clearly, we need some. But what will that look like?
I did an informal Facebook poll to see what the word resilience brought up for other people. Some of the definitions that my friends used were things like strength and toughness. Resilience is often seen as plugging away even though the odds might be stacked against you, a sort of perseverance or doggedness. And that doesn’t quite ring true for me in these times because it feels like an armoring, a way of warrioring through. Active doggedness might even be a way to escape what we’re feeling, a procrastination borne of anxiety. What I’m finding as I rattle around my house with my feelings is that armoring isn’t the answer for me. I don’t feel better when I stiffen my upper lip. In fact, that’s kind of exhausting. I feel better when I share real feelings with people who care. When my friends and I ask each other how we’re doing, we don’t want to hear a deflective “Fine fine, I’m being tough. Everything’s good. How are you?” That feels disingenuous somehow. We actually really care and want to know, and we’re checking to see that not alone in feeling angry, fragile or devastated, or even hopeful.
