Читать книгу The Woman's Book of Resilience - Beth Miller - Страница 6

introduction

A pearl is a beautiful thing that is produced by an injured life.It is the tear [that results] from the injury of the oyster.The treasure of our being in this world is also produced by an injured life.If we have not been wounded, if we have not been injured,then we will not produce the pearl.

—S. HOELLER

mOST OF US want to see ourselves as survivors, as having that deep sense of confidence that allows us to conquer our personal demons and catastrophes. We want that exhilarating feeling of accomplishment and achievement. We want not just to survive but to thrive.

We want to think we'll be able to overcome unrequited love, have the confidence to look for another job, learn how to live with loss and disappointments creatively and constructively, whether it is not being able to have a child or being passed over for a promotion. We want to believe that we'll have courage when we fail and know how to keep trying, especially when the addiction, pain, loss, or fury appears to be getting the best of us.

We want to be resilient. We want to bounce back from misfortune and thrive from difficulties.

Sensing its importance to people's ability to cope with adversity is how I came to study the quality of resilience a little over a decade ago. At first I just loved the sound of the word. It seemed to embody a certain lightness and buoyancy. As a psychotherapist working with people stung and damaged by all sorts of life events, I had a sense that resilience might be the single most important capacity people need to develop in order to cope with their demons, with life's inevitable misfortunes, and with a vastly changing world.

As I delved into the subject, I immediately thought of the many children who survive horrific backgrounds relatively intact and began to wonder why they are able to do so when others are crushed by similar circumstances. I wondered the same thing about adults who managed to bounce back from profound losses, personal addictions, and serial disappointments. How is it that some of us are able to stand back up from tragedy able to love while others are permanently scarred? Why are some people resilient and others not? The further into that question I got, the more I became entangled in a debate similar to the nature-nurture one. My research led me to believe that we are born with a temperament that determines, to a large degree, how we relate to the world and each other and how much stress and tragedy we can withstand without breaking. But if that's the case, I then went on to wonder, if resilience is inborn, what happens to those of us who do bend too far under hardships? Is that it for us, or can we actually develop bounce-ability and become resilient again? If temperament plays such an important role in our ability to be resilient, can those of us who are more tender increase our resilience? Can those areas in all of us that leave us quivering become stronger?

I discovered many things:

Resilience is natural. Bones heal, hearts mend, and the human spirit's destination is enlargement. Change or misfortune is part of the human journey through life. In fact, without troubles we would not have the need to be resilient. There are changes throughout our natural development, like birth, adolescence, midlife, and death. There are changes in our societal initiations, like marriage and career choices or shifts. There are cataclysmic events like earthquakes and hurricanes. We torture each other with rape, holocausts, wars, slavery, and oppression.

But our culture teaches us to pick ourselves up again, brush ourselves off, and start all over again. Our myths regale us with triumphant phoenixes rising out of the ash heaps. We swell with pride when ordinary people champion over horrendous odds.

We know that resiliency reigns because we survive to tell our tales of misfortune, trauma, abuse. Indeed, we are built to be able to go to the edge of life and come back with heart and soul elevated, with the ability to evaluate and reevaluate what is important in light of whatever adversity is going on in our lives, with the ability to deepen our understanding of ourselves and the environment we live in. We are built to be resilient, to be able to take sure and steady steps over rocky terrain.

No one is resilient all the time. Even for those of us who appear naturally resilient and take life in stride, there will be pockets of our lives that are more difficult to navigate. One aspect of our life can be flexible; for example, being a crackerjack on the job is easy but relationship breakups do us in; major crises are manageable but not so the everyday disappointments. Many bright, capable people can feel overwhelmed by a calamity or an unexpected turn in the road.

Also, what is easy for one person is hard for another. It is irrelevant and even destructive to compare ourselves to others, because pockets of resilience and pockets of vulnerability differ from person to person. Some people are so disciplined that losing control to an addiction is anathema. Others make friends so easily they cannot imagine being lonely. It is important to locate the areas in our own lives where we find ourselves down for the count and not look to others as a benchmark.

We may be designed to be resilient and flourish, yet life and how we perceive and receive hard times can crush this natural ability. Poverty, abuse, unrelenting difficulties, overwhelming loss all can and do take their tolls on our ability to thrive. And, yet, even with all these difficulties, what most often determines our resiliency is how we perceive the event and what it means to us. The literature on resilience speaks of working well, playing well, and expecting well. Not too much or too little. From growing up in a profoundly neglectful environment without enough to eat to parenting an autistic child, being resilient means not denying the reality of the situation, not wishing for it to be different, and not succumbing to a victim mentality. Instead, expecting well, seeing clearly, knowing that what is, is, and then finding what you can do about it—these are the keys to resilience. The child who finds a kindly neighbor who invites her in for dinner, the parents who give their child all the love and support they have without waiting for their child to do what a child without autism would be able to do—expecting well frees us up to creative responses.

Resilience can be crushed out. We need to be resilient to be human and we are born with that quality—but what happens when life crushes us over and over or trauma, disappointments, and loss are too horrific to bear, what about when we break in certain places? The astonishing number of depressions, the varying degrees of anxiety lived with on a daily basis, mental illness, the loss of work hours as a result of not being able to face the day, suicides and violence in the home, work, and world reveal the crushing blow that life can deliver. Sometimes we have to relearn to be resilient. We feel wrung out or walked on. How do we rekindle the ability to bounce back and not merely survive, but thrive?

We can learn to be resilient. The work that I have been doing for the past ten years is based on the reality that resilience can be cultivated, relearned, developed. While I began my study with the question, “Who is naturally resilient and who is not, and why?” I soon moved away from those artificial poles, and through years of research and interviews developed an understanding of the way the most resilient people think, process, and behave. It is out of that work that I designed the Art of Resilience Process.

For the past ten years, as I have worked with people in my individual practice, in groups on resilience, in classrooms, conferences, and seminars, I have continued to marvel at the elasticity of the human spirit and how, given the proper ingredients, people show up in more and more resilient fashion. I have borne witness as people who heretofore saw themselves as weak and victimized discover their innate strengths and talents enough to bring a new bounce to their step. I have helped hundreds of people find meaning within the black holes and noticed that, as a result, they have developed (or found within themselves) more creative responses to their difficult times. I have walked along the hopeful journey of cultivating resilience and developing the mental and emotional acumen of producing pearls from injured lives.

the art of resilience process

As I see it, resilience has twelve qualities that interrelate like spokes on a wheel. The Art of Resilience Process is designed to teach you how to strengthen each spoke of this wheel and thereby increase your resilience quotient. The process is designed as a preventative tool. Each quality can and will definitely help when you find yourself in the middle of or in the aftermath of a crisis or difficulty, but a more fundamental use of cultivating resilience is using this process to strengthen your muscles of flexibility during calmer times.

The center of the resilience wheel, I have found, is making friends with your vulnerability. As counterintuitive as this might sound, think about the difference between an oak tree and a reed during a violent windstorm. As Aesop illustrated in his fable, “The Oak and the Reed,” the reed responds to the oak, “I secure myself by a conduct that is the reverse of yours: instead of being stiff and stubborn, and being proud of my strength, I yield and bend to the winds. I let the storm pass over me, knowing how fruitless it would be to resist.”

The moral of this fable: A person of a quiet, still temper—whether it be given him by nature or acquired by art—calmly composes himself in the midst of a storm, so as to elude the shock, or receive it with the least detriment. He is like a prudent, experienced sailor who, in swimming to the shore from a wrecked vessel in a swelling sea, does not oppose the fury of the waves, but stoops and gives way that they may roll over his head.

The doctrine of absolute submission in all cases is an absurd dogmatical precept…but, upon particular occasions, and where it is impossible for us to overcome, to submit patiently is one of the most reasonable maxims of life.

The process works in a spiral, beginning and ending with embracing our vulnerability. We begin by recognizing our more tender spots and move to strengthening the qualities listed on the wheel. So, in order to flex the vulnerability muscle, to learn that our strength truly does lie in our flexibility, we must build connections and interdependence, own our talents and gifts, take good care of ourselves, strengthen the core of our being, learn what we can manage for life's overwhelming times, and increase our repertoire of responses to hard and challenging times. In order to enlarge our sense of self, we must learn to sit with suffering, staying long enough to discover the pearls in minor and major irritations, and not running away prematurely. We must learn to how to laugh at life, even during the dark times, and also know how to say, “Enough already!” These are the twelve spokes of the wheel, each one designed to brace and support our deepest self. By bracing and supporting our deepest self, we can be more and more comfortable with our vulnerability—and back to further strengthening the other qualities. That's what cultivating resilience is all about. The chapters that follow are designed to help you develop each of these qualities of resilience. They can be read straight through or used as reference when you feel the need to cultivate a particular strength or be reminded of how to take a particular approach. The qualities do not need to be worked in any particular order. You will find exercises at the end of each chapter to help guide you in this journey. These, too, can be revisited over and over with the intent of going deeper and deeper into the psyche. If only one of the exercises feels right for you, do only one. If they all work, go for it. I encourage you to make them work for you—rather than make yourself work for them.

THE WHEEL OF RESILIENCE

In each chapter I use mythology, interviews, and/or personal stories to bring life and dimension to the approaches of this resiliency process. Throughout these pages you will meet many courageous and impressive women. Though their paths are varied, their stories unique, their talents and abilities particular, their resilient attitudes can be beacons of light for you as you find the courage and strength to master your own demons or overcome life's hardships. I tell their stories to show you that you can deal with sorrow and tragedy, you can find your power and your voice, you can squarely face life's hard times, inequities, and diabolical schemes—and even thrive.

(Out of respect for confidentiality, I use composites and pseudonyms to detail the lives and behaviors of these quiet heroines.)

Becoming resilient is not an easy process, and it has no definitive ending. It takes hard work, perseverance, willingness, and desire. You have to be willing to take yourself on. But it can be done. May you find through the teachings in this book that you do possess the strength of a reed, the composure to ride out even the mightiest of storms, the willingness and ability to give way so that the waves may roll over your head.