Resilent grieving

I’ve been re-reading the book Resilient Grieving (I think I’ve bought 4 copies now because I keep giving it away) and came across this great quote that resonated: “…resilience enables us to feel pain (and anger, anxiety, guilt) and to move through these emotions so that we can continue to feel joy, awe and love. Fundamentally, resilience is about marshaling what is within us to make it through, and maybe even transform, what is before us.”

I find her strategies for managing grief and (re)building resilience validating. She talks about the importance of identifying your strengths, and recommends the Values In Action (VIA) survey. I recommend it to anyone who works in geriatrics or palliative care, as well as anyone bereaved, because I think the tips are so practical.

In week 29 of the pandemic, a mentor complimented me on my efforts and persistence in grieving/recovery/resilience and it was a nice reminder that yes, it does take hard work.

The Grief Out Loud podcast #178 with poet and writer Katherine Mallory talked about how the word resilience gets overused these days, but she thinks of it as the product of overcoming or living trauma or hardship. Or, as my friend says, having to weave trauma into the warp and weft of your being.

It’s a little depressing to report, but 2020 was my best year since 2016…the ones in between were really quite hard. The first year and a half on faculty were regular-level hard stuff (for an academic research mom with a newish baby): writing 5 grants, doing a faculty-fellowship, driving to multiple campuses a day trying to be part of different professional communities (and figure out where to pump), and traveling for professional stuff (often conferences) every month or two. Then were the two years of traveling for family hospitalizations, deaths, funerals, and changes in my professional setup – while trying to keep with collecting and analyzing data, disseminating research, and writing grants.

I’m fortunate that privilege, sponsorship, luck and hard work aligned to give me the space and time I ultimately needed in 2020 to make different choices about self-care than I did in prior years when I was in survival-mode. It has given me a larger margin (and more strategies) for coping when harder things happen.