We all think our children, nieces, or nephews are the best ever at x, y, or a. It is understandable. The amount of emotional and mental investment certainly seems to demand of us to assign those attributes. Who wants to feel that their efforts are wasted? Pride over the kids in our lives is certainly a normal response to this type of relationship. But, we err and even harm our children when our relationship hinges on their behavior to make us to feel worthy.
Recently I spent a week with one of nieces and her children. Her youngest is a newborn and her oldest, is, without exaggeration, the most energetic child I have ever met. I know, I know, as I mentioned above, everyone says their kids or their nieces are the most this or that. I get it. However, this is not just any child I am propping up. This child is charismatically remarkable. Watching her do life as a toddler illustrated for me several truths about how to handle life.
We often admire children’s capacity to learn, to bounce, to forget, and to forgive. Their joy is contagious as much as their tantrums are unnerving. They are a spring of renewed disposition that never ceases to empty itself and never runs dry. They bounce back because they seem to have resilience. They just try again. And again.
Dr. Jeremy Sutton, Psychology Lecturer at the University of Liverpool, and an expert on endurance, explains that though we often think of resilience as bouncing back, it is a more complex attribute. In his article What Is Resilience, and Why Is It Important to Bounce Back? he explains: “psychology recognizes that resilient individuals going through significant life events do not always recover effortlessly; they often find a new path. Even when knocked by what has happened, the darkest times still typically lead to growth…”
My niece’s child is two years old. I will call her Ivana to protect her privacy. She has a bottomless source of joy and energy. This joy and energy expresses itself in several ways. She might engage in a fierce but assertive negotiation, the kind that makes you think that she will become a well paid lawyer someday. If that does not work, she then tries to be the sweetest and charismatic charmer in the room and asks for what she desires in a way that completely melts your heart. When that does not work, she engages in repetition—which is a proven tactic to wear someone down.
Ivana has a repertoire of behaviors to try and see which one is successful. She adapts or finds a new path. While is true that her experience with adversity is limited to her desires not being granted for one reason or another, her capacity to adapt surpasses her lack of experience in adversity. She is practicing resilience in her context with the tools she has.
Ivana does not know that what she is doing is practicing resilience. And this is what I found remarkable. Her ability to adapt, to change strategies, to test methods, and/or to leave it alone for a bit. The repertoire comes natural to her. But, when she is focused, she is focused. She finds a way and it may not look like she is patiently waiting, but make no mistake, she is in her little mind looking for the opportunity to get what she wants. That is the type of focus I do not always come across.
Observing Ivana made me think of the things we want to achieve, the failures, the bumps, and the obstacles. There is a saying that if you fall from a horse you need to get back on it right away. Ivana may or may not fall from a horse to test this aphorism. The time with her though taught me much about adapting, changing, and finding new paths. In short, if something does not work, either move on or find another way.
Once I met a counselor who gave me an advice I try to follow since: if you lose something, whatever it is, give yourself time to mourn for it. Then, get up and move on. Don’t dwell. When you need to visit it, do so and give yourself a short time. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Allow yourself to be sad. Then, move on.
It kind of seems to be like the bouncing ball. Go where you need to go, don’t stay too long. Keep going to get where you really have to go.
Love,
Alma