Resilience isn't the Same as a Happy Ending

Resilient people have known struggle.  It’s actually the hallmark of resilience. So, it’s important not to confuse resilience with a happy ending.  Resilience isn’t the evidence that everything turned out ok.  It’s the truth that everything went to shit, and we survived to appreciate another sunrise or the leaves changing color in the fall.  Resilience isn’t without sorrow, and it doesn’t bypass pain. In fact, the most resilient among us experience just the opposite.  When they encounter hardship, difficulty, and pain, they step into it because they know it cannot be avoided.  Resilience opens its arms to everything. Even discomfort and devastation.  Resilient people don’t numb out the pain, and yes, sometimes they do get pulled under by it, but they find buoyancy in truth and eventually (maybe not immediately) rise up again, and again, and again.

If you are seeking a path to resilience because you seek a life of only love and light, then I’m afraid this path isn’t for you.  We are human, you see, and we must face losing what we love. We will be called to grieve; we will be angry; and we will be afraid. We will be given more and more opportunities as the world spins to feel the sorrowful side of being alive. Resilience gives space for this too.  It invites us to feel the depth of what we are feeling, whatever it is, to really go down into it if we need to and to utilize the tools we have available to explore it, AND then to still remember that the wind in the treetops is still a wonder.  Resilience says yes to the darkness, and asks us to remember that the light continues to exist.  Resilience does not fix, but it will help to bind the fracture and to mend the wound. Resilience does not protect us from bad things happening, but it does help us to see the beauty alongside the pain.  

Resilience isn’t the same as a happy ending, because it doesn’t try to control the outcomes, and doesn’t try to deny the pain.  If you want to live a resilient life, then we must learn to say yes even in our darkest hours. To fall into the abyss of sorrow, and remember that we can float.