My One Word: Resilience
Resilience – noun 1) the power or ability to return to the original form, position, etc., after being bent, compressed, or stretched; elasticity. 2) ability to recover readily from illness, depression, adversity, or the like.
Dictionary.com doesn’t have one word to describe the past 2+ years of my life. It has been challenging, sad, stressful – and much more.
There is no way to fully describe what I went through mentally and emotionally – but I am not “returned to my original form.” I did spend more than 2 years being stretched to the limits of my elasticity.
I’ll avoid the long story and merely say that since November of 2015, I have moved through multiple medical crises, hospitalizations, rehabs, broken bones, and surgeries with my mother and step father, who both died in 2017. In this period, my daughter moved to Ecuador. Two grandchildren were born. I got re-organized out of a job. I made a regrettable dating decision. I had surgery on a finger – and a hysterectomy. I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s – an autoimmune thyroid disease. A biopsy came back negative. I stood by the men in my family who lost and found employment. I started my own consulting firm. And numerous other life experiences.
Whew!
And here I am on the other side – coming back into the light.
I don’t know what else life has in store – but I am content to say I weathered this tsunami.
Reflecting back, I can’t say one thing helped – but here are some of the things I did to get by in the last year:
I rediscovered reading. A book can transport you to another world and give you a break from thinking about the stressful stuff.
I treated myself to Netflix and Amazon Prime. Binge watching got me through grief stricken days, sometimes a whole weekend.
I said no….a lot. I gave up favorite activities and causes realizing that I couldn’t do everything anymore. Normal conversations were too hard, I couldn’t pretend to focus – and so I absented myself from the stress of presenting a brave face.
I talked it out. I have great listeners who let me go on and on and just let it go verbally. My brain would have imploded if I didn’t download.
I didn’t work for months. I realize this option is a privilege. I interviewed for jobs, but took unemployment. I severely cut my budget and bought the time I needed to get over the initial shock of my mother’s death followed 2 weeks later by the loss of my job.
I listened. I went out for coffee, lunch and dinner with colleagues from my professional universe. They wanted to know what I was going to do next. I had no idea – so I asked them what they thought. 7 out of 10 encouraged me to hang out a shingle.
I spent time reconnecting with loved ones. I wouldn’t change the time I spent care-taking for anything – but it did mean choosing my folks over all others. The one on one visits in the early days of grief were a life saver.
I got educated. I took classes and workshops about starting a business. I reached out to a circle of consultants who generously shared their experience. I researched and googled. You don’t dive head first into the pool of self employment without checking the depth of the water.
Finally – I was selfish. I put me first – a place I hadn’t been in a long time; a location that still feels uncomfortable. I had developed the habit of not thinking about what I needed. I am still learning this one.
I come from a long line of resilient women. I was raised on their stories and my life is easy compared to their famine, disease and fire. Their stories are an important part of my resilience. If there were words of comfort and assurance I could pass along to my children and grandchildren it would be these: You can handle more that you think you can. You will be changed by adversity, but you will be okay. There is more waiting for you, I promise.