Why Are Some People More Resilient Than Others?

Have you ever wondered what separates those rare individuals who are able to step forward after trauma and adversity from those of us who are stunted, derailed, or in some way consumed by similar life circumstances or events?

As a society, we tend to gravitate to the "bounce back" narrative so often espoused in the media, and one that is particularly true of the stories most commonly shared on social media. There is something about heralding the underdog or championing someone's arduous climb through adversity that resonates deeply within us.

Despite being a public figure, I've never been one to shy away from talking openly about my own struggles with addiction, depression, and childhood trauma; and as a result, I have noticed that whenever I give a talk, the question of resilience is inevitably raised.

Most recently, I've come to believe that our obsession with the "bouncing-back-from-adversity" narrative tells only half the story, and I would suggest that it might in fact be the least interesting part of what is actually taking place during this personal transformation.

I am currently working on a book about resilience, and part of this process involves interviewing 30 individuals -- resilience exemplars -- people from around the world who exhibit an incredible and sustained level of resilience. I set out to write the book with the conviction that resilience has little to do with weathering the storm, or what we like to refer to as "bouncing back," and everything to do with using that storm as a demarcation point.

Resilience exemplars neither "artificially" compartmentalize their adversity, nor negate the residue or resonance that trauma has throughout a lifetime.

I am approximately halfway through the interview process, and at this point, a number of recurring themes have appeared -- some of which, I thought I would share with you:

Resilience is elastic.

Instead of talking about people who wholeheartedly weather adversity as being bounceable, I would suggest that it is resilience itself that has an ethereal elasticity to it. And in that light, we can begin to move away from the common misconception that being resilient has much to do with adopting strategies and mindsets that insulate us from the pain and uncertainty of adversity. In fact, the interview data suggest that resilience rises from an ability to be present with, and thereby process the scope of the adversity. The key is to avoid being consumed by it.

Resilience exemplars neither "artificially" compartmentalize their adversity, nor negate the residue or resonance that trauma has throughout a lifetime. There is most definitely a period of processing and making sense of trauma and adversity, but there comes a pivotal point at which the individual makes the decision to move beyond"'stuckness" and towards personal growth and understanding.

Resilience resonates in the spaces and pauses we create.

Another critical component of resilience appears to be the ability to create a 'buffer' or space that allows someone the time to evaluate, process, and prioritize a given situation. Resilience thrives in the grey zones of insecurity and ambiguity; thus, finish lines and task outcomes take a backseat to daily ritual and a need to prioritize self-care, as these become ballasts against the paralyzing waves of self-doubt and uncertainty.

Moreover, it is the importance of stressing ongoing self-care that leads to a high degree of self-awareness, which thus permits resilient individuals the ability to zoom the lens out from their own engagement with trauma or adversity. In so doing, they gain both time and perspective, which in turn gives them the sense that they are not alone in this discomfort.

With resilience, comes an opening of 'self'.

Resilience exemplars are more likely to be "soul-driven" than "passion driven." Instead of being consumed or incapacitated by the intensity of a given situation, they zealously nurture an evolving degree of self-awareness predicated on building empathic connections within their community. Both Elizabeth Gilbert (in her book Big Magic) and Angela Duckworth (in her book Grit) caution against the often-touted advice of following your passion because by its very nature, passion is all-consuming and fleeting at best. Therefore, it's not surprising that people we think of as resilient are generally in it for the "long game," and that might also be a factor in their ability to be seen as community leaders and agents of change.

Resilience has a lot to do with embracing past scars and the dissonance of lived experience as a road map forward, and ultimately, as a bridge to connect with others in your community. As the Pakistani writer Moshin Hamid once said: "Empathy is about finding echoes of another person in yourself." I couldn't agree more, and I would also suggest that resonating in those echoes is the connection we all seek that in turn, permits the resilience to grow within us and beyond us.

If you, or someone you know, is a "resilience exemplar, and you would like to be interviewed for my upcoming book, please contact me at runjprun@gmail.com.