Why Resilience?

“A good half of the art of living is resilience.” 

 -- Alain De Botton

Stand firm by Mel (me!) under CC BY NC SA 2.0

As you can imagine, I am a fairly resilient person. While I wouldn't say that I lead a miserable life, some past experiences with personal and professional hardship, depression, and of course death, have been incredible challenges that I have had to work my way through.

Many people have (and continue to) comment on my 'strength' in the face of Samuel's death. And I've written before about my approach to processing all of it. But I think that a lot of the way I have reacted and continue to react is because of my attitude. I am generally a positive person and actively cultivate my own resilience and well-being.

While I've always been a pretty positive, chirpy type (annoyingly so in my younger days - 'why are you always smiling?!!'), resilience has taken more cultivation. In my first year of teaching I did a professional development session on resilience and I really think it helped me. I had a very difficult class for my first year out, and many times wanted to quit. A combination of pure stubbornness, supportive peers and a caring manager ensured that I didn't.

In the end I did leave teaching, but I don't think it was completely because of a lack of resilience. In the first instance, it was a reaction to my grief: I couldn't face working with kids, and I felt a whole lot of guilt about the time I put into teaching (over my own family and well-being). But since then I've realised that there were other reasons: a need to pursue my passions; trying to balance life and work; and philosophical reasons that would make it difficult for me to return to traditional schools! More about that another time too, perhaps.

Since then, I have actively developed my own resilience, and tried to foster it in my children. It certainly seems to be working for Oliver so far, and I know that I am a much more balanced person too. 

Do you do these things? Are you resilient?

In my next post, I'm going to share some ideas for developing resilience. 

Strength

If you're going through hell, keep going. ~Winston Churchill

Many people say to me: "you're so strong". But what is the measure of strength? Is it because I don't cry all the time, because I can find it in me to smile? Is it because I can keep going? Is it because I haven't fallen apart?

Perhaps I am strong, or at least look it from the outside. I guess I am able to smile, to keep going. I think I've said before that I was afraid that if I let go, I would fall apart and not be able to recover, to go on. But I'm not sure if that's really the case.

Right from the start I was determined to honour Samuel, to remember him with a smile, to remember the happy things about him. Of course I'm sad, I've lost my son, but I don't think it would do his memory any good to fall apart. How would that honour him? On Essential Baby, one of the forums I visit from time to time, someone said (to someone else who is going through some grief) "live the life she could not". It's the kind of message that is given a lot, alongside the 'if the situation were reversed, you'd want them to go on' type of message. I really think there's a lot to that type of thinking. If we sit around, depressed about losing someone dear to us, then not only are we hanging on to sad feelings (instead of remembering happy times), but we are wasting our chance to have a good, healthy life. How does it honour someone to waste your life as well?

The other reason I appear 'strong' is for Oliver. He's lost his brother, would it be fair to lose his mother and father too, just because they can't handle the pain? Both of us have a history of depression, so it would probably be easy to fall apart, but I would not do that to Ollie. I will still give him the message that it's OK to grieve, to be sad sometimes, to talk about what's happened (and I will do the same, both in private and with him), but I will also make sure that he is loved and has a good, fun childhood.
Also, what would it do to Oliver's confidence, his self-esteem, to see everyone fall apart because Samuel is gone? Would he think 'I'm not enough for them'? 'I'm not as good as Samuel'?
No, there are good reasons for me to 'stay strong'. I guess you could say I have some leadership potential, and in this case, I'm leading my family out of a dark time. Someone's gotta do it.