Reasons to write about resilience

Writing about resilience seemed like such a good idea.

But it turns out to be really hard to write about resilience without sounding, well, cheesy. Do a quick search of Pinterest orTumblr for quotes about resilience and you'll see what I mean.

Good thing I like cheese.

Seriously, though. There are some reasons I really want to write about resilience.  As part of being an academic, I write. A lot. It turns out I am rarely short of words.  I've just turned in a manuscript for what is my seventh book length project. It was the one of the hardest things I've ever worked on.  I learnt more from all the things that were difficult than the parts that went well.

I want to tell some of the stories that were hidden behind that book and behind much of my experience as a researcher, a teacher, a writer, a learner, a reader.

I want to talk about resilience because I think we need it.  And because, for me, it's an important counter balance and counter culture to the values that shape how the 'outputs' of my work are measured (not just the papers and books I write, but also my teaching and performance).

When I've talked to people about my passion for resilience, it seems like I'm not the only one who might benefit from sharing reflections about how resilience can help us thrive in our experiences of researching, learning, writing, thinking and speaking.

However, writing about resilience feels a bit risky. It's risky because I want to be honest with you about the experiences of my research which have not been successful. About the evaluations of my work that have been less than I had hoped for.  About times when I have not got it right.  The reason I want to do that is because it's generally been my experience that people don't do that very much. It's wonderful to celebrate success - when you get the job you've wanted, when that research grant is awarded, when the reviews are glowing.  But there is a lot of life that happens in between those moments when I (at least) have needed to pull myself up and start over. Again. And again.

I've looked for a good definition of resilience to start this blog.  I've looked in research papers, on Instagram, in music lyrics and in pictures of tattoos, like the lovely one at the top of this post (no, it's not my wrist).  There are lots of ways writers have defined resilience, some more cheesy than others. Here are some of my observations about resilience:

• Resilience involves  us encountering difficulty of some kind or another - disappointments, frustrations, imperfections. That kind of thing.  Sometimes these are big, sometimes small.  The size doesn't really matter. 
• Resilience develops based on our response (Kelly Clarkson is nearly right when she says 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' - but it's not the event, but our response that makes us stronger).
• Resilience is necessary. It is not an optional extra.
• Resilience doesn't happen instantly. It needs a bit of nurture.

Ok, I said I was seldom short on words. This is not a book chapter - it's a blog post, so I'm going to sign off here with some questions for you to think about for yourself.  I journal a lot, so questions like these help me and I hope they will help you too.

• Have you faced times when you needed to be resilient?
• Where in your learning/research/life do you need to be resilient right now?
• What is one response you can make that will help you nurture resilience in your circumstances?
• What song lyrics best help you think about resilience?

Oh, and if you have any great definitions for resilience you'd like to share, please leave a comment!