Is resilience a dirty word?
Resilience (noun):
the capacity to withstand or to recover
quicklyfrom difficulties, in a repeatable and sustainable way.; toughness
As Christmas approached in 2020, my Mum’s health had rapidly deteriorated. Between hospital visits, she would stay at our house on the couch downstairs, because she didn’t have the strength to walk up to the spare bedroom. In hindsight, it was an incredibly fatiguing time, but it was also a special time when I was able to have some cathartic conversations with my Mum.
I remember waking up one night to check on her, and in the back of my mind, I was prepared to find her unresponsive, but in hindsight, I think I just wanted to be around her. I sat in front of where she lay and told her I would miss her.
She put her hand on my head and told me she would miss me too. We sat in silence for a moment, before I told her how proud I was of her… that she had beaten cancer… not because she’d gotten rid of it, but because she’d refused to let it change the way she lived.
I told her that I was proud, that whenever life through a curveball her way, she swung at it, and kept looking for a way to overcome her struggle, all while embracing life as best she could. She looked back at me with tears in her eyes and said:
“Matt, there’s no other way to be.”
Resilience… my least favourite word?
A few months ago, I was fortunate enough to speak at a Ted X Canberra event. The theme of the night was “Ideas worth sharing” and naturally, I wanted to share our community’s idea that Canberra can be suicide-free by 2033.
Moments before I went on stage, a fellow speaker said that resilience was her least favourite word. Despite the slight awkwardness of Running for Resilience being introduced immediately after that statement, I wasn’t shocked or shaken, because I’ve heard this statement before. I’ve seen opinion pieces challenge the notion of resilience, and I’ve had friends question the appropriateness of the term.
I identify as resilient, and I believe that the more resilient people we have in our society, the better positioned we’ll be to achieve a suicide-free ACT. But I don’t think I disagree with what these people are saying, and I think what many see as a difference of opinion, is actually a difference in definition.
Resilience (noun):
the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness
the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity
The above is the standard definition of resilience, and it’s clear to me where the issue with resilience as a word begins. The words quickly and spring infer that time is a key component of resilience, that when we encounter something tough, we start the clock, and we only have a certain amount of time to recover in order to be resilient.
That definition is the historical definition, and there is obviously some rhyme or reason why, but it’s certainly not how it’s being used in our community. One year ago, we collated the responses from our Meet the Runner series, where we asked people how they would define resilience:
Acknowledging the pain you’re feeling as real and moving forward despite it. Moving forward however you can, with the understanding that whilst it might suck now, it could always be worse, it can always get better, and that when it’s all said and done, you’ll be stronger for going through it.
The clear difference here is that when we asked our community what it means to be resilient, there is an absence of springing back or recovering quickly. However, there is a notion of enduring, sticking it out, and pursuing a stronger version of yourself, however you can, and in whatever way suits your circumstances, despite the obstacles your facing… This is what resilience looks like… and in the words of my Mum… there’s no other way to be…
Until there is…
In the weeks before my Mum’s death, she told me she wanted to die. After nearly two years of unbreakable stoicism, her resilience finally gave way. The pain had become too much, and any hope that she would recover had disappeared.
It was heartbreaking then, and it’s heartbreaking now… but this decision to access voluntary assisted dying confirms something for me… that there is a reasonably rational point where someone can believe taking their life is a viable option.
This is a delicate statement and a really difficult one to explore. Either subjectively or objectively, people can be in enough pain, their life can be void of better alternatives, and the best outcome in their minds is to make a decision to die. The point that separates my Mum’s decision to access voluntary assisted dying and my Dad’s decision to suicide 10 years earlier is the subjectivity of better alternatives.
Both my Mum and Dad were in pain, they both felt as if they had no alternatives, and that the best outcome for them in what became their final moments, was to leave this world… only my Dad had better alternatives… he just didn’t know it, or believe they were viable.
One of the heartbreaking things about suicide is that it represents a person’s belief that the world would be better off without them; and that they think there is no other way to relieve their pain. It’s heartbreaking because that pain must be immense, it’s heartbreaking because I believe it’s not true, and it’s heartbreaking because similarly, the people at the precipice of suicide probably believe I’m wrong too. So perhaps this is the other issue with the word resilience… how can we expect people to be resilient when they genuinely believe it’s not a viable option for them?
I think one answer is community. If we’re able to have a community that can catch people when they fall, that can believe in people when they’ve lost belief in themselves, those without the strength to be resilient can draw strength from others. Secondly, if we can build positive habits within individuals that prepare them for tough times and equip them with the tools to cope with struggles, they’ll not only endure hardships, but these hardships are less likely to force someone to a breaking point, rather, it will take them to a point of resistance that ultimately leads to growth.
There’s no other way to be
This is not a naïve view of the world. It’s not dismissing the heartbreaking reality that people throughout Canberra will reach and exceed breaking point, every day. It’s a reflection of a belief in resilience, that every time we choose to be resilient, we’re building our capacity to withstand or to recover from difficulties, in a repeatable and sustainable way… and if we have a choice… which we almost always do… there truly is no other way to be.
Just. Keep. Moving.
Great read Matt. When researching for an assignment last semester on self harm and suicide I read about irrational decision making which referred to the time people take to consider their decision before a suicide attempt. The maximum was one hour, for some it was 5 minutes. Indicating a huge emotion component to the decision making. When you think about the time we take to make other big decisions, such as buying property, accepting a job offer, quitting a job, getting married, having children etc, 5 to 60 mins is so very short.
Therefore resilience and emotional agility is very important in suicide prevention.
Great read. I think it highlights the fact that different people have different periods and different ways to process and deal with things, and we have to work through things as they come, rather than have expectations around them.