On the other hand, I also tend to be uncomfortable sometimes with being credited for the ways in which I might be seen as resilient: I have no addictions (apart from sugar...), I've never been hospitalized or attempted to end my life, I have three university degrees and some measure of success as a professional. But I know that a lot of this was just luck. I happened to possess certain skills, abilities and privileges that made these things possible. These accomplishments don't make me better than anyone else who happens not to have been as "resilient" in those ways. My fate could easily have been different.
I like the idea of recasting the way we see strength/vulnerability by acknowledging the strength that it can take to be openly vulnerable and overcome challenging circumstances, but I sometimes hate the dichotomy and value judgments inherent in the concept of strength and "resilience" to begin with. I'm not saying they should be discarded. I'm just saying it sits uneasily with me.
I think it's okay to encourage people to strive to heal, to aim for resilience for their own sake, because they deserve to be happy and well. But we also have to practice seeing the inherent value and goodness in those who continue to suffer, whom we might be inclined to see as broken, who wouldn't easily fit into the resilience category. I believe in crediting people for their resilience and strength but not if it comes at the expense of failing to see the beauty and worth of those who couldn't overcome their circumstances (perhaps due to the severity of what they were facing combined with bad luck).
My belief is that there are all kinds of stories of human suffering that could inspire and move us, not only among those who proved to be "resilient," but also in those who faced their suffering as best they could, perhaps without overcoming it. I think it takes a special skill-set and an intentional kind of active attunement to truly appreciate those stories and what they can teach us. I also feel those stories are especially important for us as fragile humans with inherent existential vulnerability, because just as we are all capable of resilience and strength, we are all vulnerable in ways we can't control, and will eventually be faced with difficulties that we can't overcome.
I don't reject discussions about resilience and I'm sure there are all kinds of ways of approaching it that don't fall into the concerns I've raised. I just think we have to be cautious not to get carried away pursuing the goal of enhancing resilience in a way that causes us to cease appreciating the value in those whose suffering is not easily ended. In this sense, I often complain about the apparent obsession with evidence-based treatments and measurable progress. What about those whom we don't expect to respond to treatment with measurable progress? If we focus too much on resilience and improvement, what becomes of those whose needs might be different, perhaps more palliative in nature? Who maybe can't be "fixed" in a measurable way, but whose suffering can be alleviated by a kind and compassionate presence? Not everything of value in life can be measured. The concepts of strength, healing and resilience have their limits....
Sometimes, I see that as my special brand of defiance: to stand with the broken and say there is no shame in acknowledging when we feel, and maybe in some ways actually are, hopeless. There's no shame in being less resilient than someone else. Life is really hard and we are inherently fragile creatures. There's still so much beauty we can create and share even from a state of feeling broken. There's solidarity to be found here among others who have faced overwhelming odds and just didn't have it in them to keep fighting. Sometimes I think that sense of defiance and solidarity is a big part of what keeps me suffering but, to be honest, I don't care. I'm not willing to let go of that even for the sake of my own wellness. When I'm being my "best self," I'm not being resilient. I'm being defiant. My "best self" has this to say: I'm staying with the "broken," and I'm not ashamed. I refuse to turn my back on some of the uncomfortable truths I've learned even if it undermines my own wellness and prevents me from fitting in among the "resilient."
If I someday become "resilient" and "well" (a scary thought), then I hope I'll never lose that sense of solidarity and inherent human fragility in the face of difficult truths. In the meantime, I won't accept a way forward that requires me to lose sight of that goal.
I realize this post has very little to do with the legal profession but I still think it's relevant, because we as lawyers are well-known to often be afflicted with a perfectionist outlook on life. We tend to see ourselves as the "strong" defending the "weak." The dichotomies between strength and weakness are very much alive in us. For those of us also dealing with our own vulnerability, I imagine I'm not the only one who has struggled with this sense of failure over not being "good enough" at healing or resilience. We need to change our approach. We can be vulnerable and defiant at the same time (in fact, open unapologetic vulnerability can be a kind of defiance in a profession that prides itself on denying its existence). There's a special value in this kind of vulnerable defiance, I think, if we can only make the effort to see it and share it.
As always, please note that I am a lawyer, not a mental health professional of any kind. I have no expertise in trauma or mental health. Also, please note that any opinions and views expressed in this blog are solely my own and are not intended to represent the views or opinions of my employer in any way. For more information about the purpose of this blog, please see here and for a bit more information about my personal perspective on this issue, please see "my story" here
I am very grateful to have received a "Clawbie" Award for this blog (which reflects the importance of this topic): https://www.clawbies.ca/2019-clawbies-canadian-law-blog-awards/
For some of my external writing on this topic, see:
- https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/a-more-inclusive-discussion-on-the-impact-of-trauma-on-lawyers-mental-health-is-needed/276166
- https://www.cbabc.org/BarTalk/Articles/2020/February/Features/Speaking-Up-About-Trauma-and-Mental-Health
- https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/changing-the-conversation/326240
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