I was recently in a session with one of my longtime students (and friend). We were discussing the challenges and setbacks in their current life structure, and the word they used to describe their response to these demands and challenges was resilience. Hmmm…spidey sense perked up. I locked on to this word and asked the student to provide their definition of resilience. When they did, I asked if this word still described their response to life situations. It did. Where they sure? Yes, they were sure. I looked up the definition of resilience during our session and read it back to the student.
re·sil·ience
/rəˈzilyəns/
noun: resilience; noun: resiliency; plural noun: resiliencies
1. the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.
2. the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity.
It was that second definition that changed everything. After reading the dictionary definition to the student, they changed their mind. No, resilience didn’t adequately describe their true nature, and we needed to assign different words. It turns out that the very definition of resilience was holding the student back from recognizing and valuing their growth and change within experiences. You see, resiliency implies we have the ability to ‘bounce back’ to our original state, or dimensions, in the face of challenge.
Great, but who really wants that?
Rubber bands are resilient. They stretch and lengthen far beyond their size, but they always snap back to their original dimensions. After much use, that rubber band will eventually lose its resiliency and either break or wear out. If that rubber band could learn how to embrace and embody its new dimensions, it may not need to return to its original state and could instead become a different object entirely. I would think that after facing conflict or weathering a significant challenge we would want to say we have learned and grown from the experience, not just ‘bounced back’ to our original state. That gets us exactly nowhere.
The words we assigned in place of resilience were:
a·dapt·a·bil·i·ty
/əˌdaptəˈbilədē/
noun
1. the quality of being able to adjust to new conditions.
2. the capacity to be modified for a new use or purpose.
trans·form·a·tive
/tran(t)sˈfôrmədiv/
adjective
1. causing a marked change in someone or something.
Just a quick comparison of the definitions of resiliency vs adaptability and transformative suggests a vastly different interpretation of a single experience. Resiliency is defensive maneuvering. It implies a response to a changing environment with stoicism and even stubbornness. We’re bouncing back to our original dimensions without growth or change. Adaptability is evolution. It implies we have the capacity to adjust our perceptions and actions within an experience so we continue to live in harmony with our ever-changing environment. Transformation is the result of adaptability. It happens when we recognize, retain and embody our new dimensions (remember the rubber band?).
Words are power. They are significant. The way we assign words to our emotions and experiences can tell us an awful lot about how we view ourselves, our limitations, and our potential. Words can prohibit or encourage. They can hurt or heal. They are exclusionary or inclusive. I’ve told many students when they become overwhelmed or agitated to, “Stop. Pause. Use your words.” This is not a pep talk. It’s a reminder that our mind and body will respond to the words we invoke, and if our words aren’t true or accurate we’ll just snap back to our original dimensions. If our words are true and accurate, we can adapt and transform through the challenge.
Please include your thoughts in the comment section. Let’s have the discussion!