This is my resilience pie chart.

Each slice of pie shows a plot twist of my life story. The key experiences that made me more bendable and less breakable.

 By contrast, the pie chart experiences were all unexpected and unwelcome.

They knocked the breath out of me. Instant inability to walk in the turn-and-snap of an ankle. Sudden loss of health care. Loved one's’ death.

Each one forced me to let go of something precious, like people, income, plans, my most basic independence.

I drew this chart as part of a Skillshare class I’m taking, created by Mari Andrew, who learned many resiliency lessons at a young age. It’s a course in visual journaling, and the resilience pie chart is lesson one.

I love the exercise, but I think it might be slightly misnamed. One dictionary definition of resilience is “the power or ability to return to original form.” Yet, we never return to original form after these sorts of experiences.

That’s because every experience bring problems that exceed our skill sets. Things we couldn’t imagine managing. 

Until we suddenly have to.

And we  learn brand new skills in a hell of a hurry. How to pay bills with half a household budget. How to walk with crutches in 15 seconds. How to watch a beloved parent take her last breath while holding her hand.

These moments bring masterclasses in patience, perseverance, fearlessness, and mindfulness. They are how we develop resilience

"Strength is the body's response to doing something effortful." --Emily Nagoski and Amelia Nagoski, Burnout

And the biggest lesson of all? How grief works. Because every loss brings grief.

Grief over big losses may never disappear completely. It can roll in at any time, like an unexpected storm. Sometimes a light drizzle. Sometimes full of thunder and gale force winds.

Yet, it's always transient.

And there’s comfort in learning that.

Learning always moves you forward. Never backward. So things never go back to normal. 

But we always emerge stronger than our “original form.”

One piece of my resilience pie is labeled TBA.  That's because the plot twists keep coming. In fact, they seem to show up more frequently now that I'm on the far side of middle age.

As long as we're living, the resiliency lessons don't stop.

Neither for us nor forour elders who rely on us for their care. 

They may be arguing. Or taking risks behind your back.  Even if they are in their final days, no longer communicating, they are still adapting.

Still learning new skills in a hell of a hurry. 

 As Bette Davis said, “old age ain't no place for sissies!”

But I have eaten enough pieces of resilience pie to know I’m up for whatever is coming my way..

And that knowledge, itself, is a blessing. When I was fired from my admin assistant job at age 22, I didn't understand about resilience.  For many months, I believed my life was over.

Now I know to draw on my hard-won resiliency skills. Or to learn what's needed to meet the challenge.

As long as the experience doesn’t kill me.

And if it does?

 Well, who knows?

TBA.

Would you like to know more about eldercare or grief coaching? I offer complimentary 45-minute discovery calls to see how my eldercare or grief coaching might help.

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