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One of my most popular posts has been the original 5 great quotes to power your day. Here are five more quotes about resiliency and living each day to the fullest from ancient and modern sages.

1. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. 

2. Willa Cather

The end is nothing; the road is all.

3. Unknown (but wise) author

Whatever it is, if it doesn’t make you happy, walk away, give it away to someone else who wants it. Let it be their next dream; let it flee from you. Then you have room to grow, to allow magnificent things to fill the vacuum of those seemingly empty places. When you hold onto yesterday, when you hold onto dead and dying adventures, you have no room in your box for greatness.

4. J.B. Priestly

I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.

5. Leonard Cohen

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in

 

Takeaway points: I, personally, love Cohen’s line “forget your perfect offering.” It’s so easy to get stuck on making everything perfect when, the truth is, the way the light comes in is through an imperfection – a crack. This is a great resiliency skill – understanding that there can be light and joy in things that are broken.

What’s your takeaway from these great quotes?

Acceptance has a bad rap. Most people think of acceptance as giving up on something and this grates against the sense of being an active, effective person. One of my clients had a stroke and is doing quite well, but feels that she won’t be “whole” until her physical abilities have fully returned to her pre-stroke condition. We have talked a lot about acceptance and what that means for her and it is hard for her to leave the mindset that acceptance = giving up. For her, if she accepts her current condition, it means that she will give up on further rehab and will always be less than one-hundred percent.

There are two important things to realize here:

1. Accepting something doesn’t mean you have to like it.

Does my client need to like the fact that her body isn’t fully functional on one side? No. But what does resisting it and thinking that life will begin when she is back to her pre-stroke condition get her? A lot of energy-consuming angst as well as missing out on the life she has today.

Sometimes we just have to observe where we are and be okay with it, even if we don’t like it. I love blogger and author Colleen Haggerty’s post “Half Empty” about this very thing.

2. Giving in is not giving up.

In my last post about the wisdom of the Chinese finger puzzle, I mentioned that an approach to something you’re resisting is to “not give up, but give in.” This requires that really tricky (and somewhat mind-boggling) ability to hold two opposites at once. For my client, it involves still working on recovering her physical abilities (not giving up) and being okay with where she is right now (giving in instead of resisting.)

It’s hard, this holding of two opposites. As the poet William Stafford says:

Look: no one ever promised for sure

that we would sing. We have decided

to moan. In a strange dance that

we don’t understand till we do it, we

have to carry on.

Takeaway points: Accepting something is not about giving up or even liking the thing that we are resisting. It’s about being okay where we are, right now, even as we work our way out of an uncomfortable place.

Does accepting something feel like giving up to you?

 

 

William Stafford, An Introduction to Some Poems in The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. Graywolf Press, 1999.

When my late partner, Ruth, was going through chemotherapy, her oncologist gave her a surprising piece of advice: Don’t resist. Cancer survivors are commonly taught to “fight” their cancer and our friend, MaryAnn, took this image a step further, envisioning the drops of her chemotherapy as members of a little SWAT team attacking her invasive cancer cells. Ruth and I were surprised, then, when Dr. Patel, after listening to Ruth’s concerns about her chemo, gently said, with his wonderful trilling accent, “R-r-ruth, don’t r-r-resist. Don’t resist the chemotherapy as it comes into your body. Allow it to do its healing work for you.”

Ruth’s life was changed by these two little words, “Don’t resist.” Her metastatic breast cancer should have ended her life within nine months or so but, instead, through consciously practicing non-resistance, she lived four more rich, meaningful, joyous years.

How do you know when you are resisting something? The experience of a Chinese finger puzzle gives us some clues:

1. You begin to feel oddly stuck.

2. The harder you resist your situation, the more you feel trapped.

3. As you continue to struggle vigorously to escape, you feel a sense of panic that you may never be able to get out of your situation.

So, what’s that old definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Resistance is pulling and pulling and pulling at the finger puzzle trying to get out, not realizing that the only way to get out is to relax and give in. Not give up, but give in.

Are you resisting something? Take a breath, step back, relax, and try something else. Maybe giving in to your situation will bring you unexpected peace and joy, too.

Takeaway points: Resistance brings us only angst and exhaustion. Relaxing against the pull of life can bring freedom and release.

What are your thoughts about the finger puzzles in your life?

In contrast to the flowery blurbs on the front page of The Art of Resilience: 100 paths to wisdom and strength in an uncertain world,  I’ll give this brief summation: This book rocks. Although published in 1997, Carol Orsborn’s writing is more than pertinent to today’s ever-changing economic, political, and social climate.

The book is organized into 10 stages which are in a progression, from the initial shock of impact, through both short-and long-term stages of recovery. Within each stage, Orsborn draws on wisdom from the stories of ordinary people, herself, and ancient philosophers to illustrate a path toward resiliency. It is an easy read and one immediately feels that Orsborn is a kindred spirit; she understands at the bone level the devastation which loss and adversity brings.

Although she frequently uses philosophical or spiritual insights as teaching tools, I also love how she doesn’t let the reader off the hook. In Stage V, Unfinished Business, she encourages us to take responsibility for mistakes we have made and, as the titles of two of her chapters reflect, Eat Your Mistake and Deal With It. Although done in a gentle manner, Orsborn is firm in her belief that owning our weaknesses and mistakes is an essential part of recovering from adversity.

As she leads us through the journey of recovery and growth, she ends by encouraging us to create Sacred Space, the tenth stage. Here is an excerpt from one of my favorite chapters, Pull in Your Oars. The story leading up to this point is that Orsborn decided she needed to create a space just for herself in her busy days, so she took up rowing on San Francisco Bay as an early-morning exercise. She describes her first solo row and how she untied from the dock and then pulled with all her might toward the Golden Gate Bridge where she just knew a spiritual epiphany was waiting for her. After ten minutes of intense effort, she looked around to find that she was still in the same place, no closer to her goal. She was trying to row against the tide.

I pulled up my oars and bent my head down into my arms, sobbing about the injustice of life. I mourned my own inadequate efforts to crack the secret code. I railed against my destiny. I railed against myself. And then finally, exhausted by the blinding emotion that had engulfed my inadequacies, I gave up. I would row back to the dock. Turn in my oars. And forget once and for all about my puny efforts to find meaning in my life.

But as I sat up, the dripping paddles resting on my legs, I realized that something was happening. The boat was moving. It was moving fast. It was moving effortlessly. The current had taken hold of it and was sweeping me around a hidden bend of the shore, toward a destination I had never noticed before. I neither helped nor hindered the boat’s intention as it rapidly rounded the corner, slowed its pace, and finally ceased its motion. I looked about me, amazed. Somehow, I had found my way into a sparkling lagoon, the surface smooth as glass. Around me were bright green weeping willows, swaying gently in the warming breezes of the morning. For the first time in many years, I felt my heart deeply come to rest. I had not made this magical destination happen. Even as I had given up, pulled my paddles from the bay, and cried out in pain and hopelessness, my destiny had been moving me forward. And not just to the goal I had set, but to an experience far greater than I had ever envisioned for myself. I wept again, but this time in gratitude. As the hour came to an end, I effortlessly made my way back to the dock. (p.187-188)

Takeaway points: Carol Orsborn’s book The Art of Resilience: 100 paths to wisdom and strength in an uncertain world is like having your own personal support group. It’s well worth adding to your library and to your toolkit of resiliency skills.

If you are interested in this book, you might also enjoy my other suggestions in Bobbi Recommends.

When I was growing up in Bremerton, Washington, my next-door neighbors were an older couple, Donnie and Virginia. All the neighborhood kids adored Donnie. He loved to laugh and constantly played games with us, from horseshoes and basketball in the summer to jumping in big piles of Hazelnut leaves in the fall. Everything was fun for Donnie.

I knew that Donnie had been in the army in World War II. It seemed like a lot of fun, the way Donnie talked about it. “Oh, Bobbi-Bell,” he’d say, (all the girls in the neighborhood had “Bell” attached to their names by Donnie; my sisters were Jacquie-Bell and Susie-Bell) “We just had a ball!” Then he would tell a funny story about the war and the men in his platoon.

Only one time did I see Donnie’s impish face become somber when telling war stories. Our ragtag group of neighborhood kids was at his house, looking at some of the pictures of his platoon. “Donnie, what’s this?” one of the boys asked, holding up a picture. We gathered around the aging black and white photo. It showed a large pile up against a building. It was hard to tell what the pile consisted of at first and then we started to recognize the components. It was a mound of bodies, burned nearly beyond recognition, but even so we could see the striped clothing of the prisoners and the gauntness of their frames. Smoke still rose from the pile.

Donnie gently took the picture and put it in his pocket. “Let’s not look at that,” he said. His smile was gone as was the light in his eyes. We weren’t sure what to do; Donnie was never serious about anything. He broke the silence as he grabbed another picture and the sparkle in his eyes returned. “Now here’s one of ol’ Harry Aitken. Did I ever tell you about him . . .?”

As I grew older, I began to understand that Donnie’s humor was his way of bouncing back from a horrible time in his life. His unit was often tasked with traveling ahead of the main army and he had seen many, many atrocious sights. But he chose to concentrate on the funny things that happened and this served him well throughout the war and the rest of his life.

Donnie died a few years ago. I still miss him. Last year, I discovered some of his writing about the war in an online newsletter. Here are some snippets of Donnie’s unique perspective on World War II:

“It has not been revealed until now just how close the German army came to complete annihilation at the hands of two platoon cooks. A shell hit the wall of Alphie Langlois’ kitchen of the first platoon and Walter “Cue Ball” Miller of the 3rd platoon. It ruined the coffee and stew they were brewing up for the evening meal. The cooks grabbed their cleavers and headed for the Kraut lines to make mincemeat. About 20 GIs grabbed them, and they stormed back into their kitchens mumbling dire threats to any Krauts that might fall into their hands.”

“The toughest job developed when we went to the latrine. In the middle of the chore the whistling and screaming of a 220 on its way was not inducement for leisurely meditation.”

“Harry Aitken confiscated a piano accordion and began to teach himself, using the trial and error method. This procedure was called the “Aitken touch.” After diligent practice daily for several weeks, to the horror and woe of the 3rd platoon GIs, he could bang out familiar tunes – if he told us the title before he played. All platoons hooked up their telephones so we could all hear, even though it did hurt our ears, but it was surprising what a little “music” could do for one’s soul and it did soothe our nerves. Every day at 5:30 (when possible) “Harry’s All Request Hour” went on the air.”

“We moved out into the field and began a slow, determined push toward the Roer River, meeting bitter resistance. But the humor was still there. One night while trying to rest in a pillbox during heavy artillery shelling, Lt. Bruce Reid leaned over to me and asked: ‘Swede, do you think this will ever replace night baseball?'”

Takeaway points: Although not a cure-all, sometimes humor is the best resiliency skill in your toolbox.

In loving tribute to Donald E. “Swede” Larson, 1st. Lieut., Co. H., 405th Regiment, 102nd Infantry Division. European Theater, 1942-1946.

Why are we so failure-aversive? The need to have control is part of the problem, according to Paul Iske, founder of The Institute of Brilliant Failures. We need to let go of this and realize there are some essential reasons things don’t always work out like we expect them to:

• We live and work in a complex environment.
• We overlook side effects. [They can be the answer you’re actually looking for!]
• We don’t know long-term consequences.
• The world can change.
• We don’t understand all interdependencies of the situation.

Trying to exert enough control so you don’t make a mistake can be crazy-making, especially considering the dynamics listed above. So, I have four suggestions:

1. Ask yourself, “What’s the worst thing that can happen if I fail?”

I was listening to our local NPR station the other day when author Tim Harford was being interviewed about his book Adapt: Why Success Always Starts With Failure. Host Dave Iverson and Harford were discussing how important it is to learn from failures. A very brave man called in and said he had been a nurse for over 30 years and he remembered that one time, early in his career, he had made a mistake with medication. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “That’s got to be the worst thing that can happen to a nurse.” The caller said his supervisor asked him to tell the other nurses about his error and, when he progressed in his career and mentored other nurses, to tell them as well. His supervisor wanted the mistake to become a learning point for not only him, but for others as well. Rather than seeing this as shameful, the man said it was a great lesson for him that others can benefit when we share our failures.

So, even if “the worst thing that can happen” may be dire, you and others may gather extremely useful information from the failure. And, it’s likely that “the worst thing that can happen” won’t be that dire and answering your own question about this will give you a better, more realistic perspective about the situation.

2. Consider the dynamics and let go of control.

Look at the bullet points above again. There are many, many things that can affect the outcome of our behaviors and efforts. Although you do need some control to function effectively in life, trying to micromanage things that are out of your control will definitely increase your stress level. Take a breath . .  . step away from the control button.

3. Don’t forget the side effects.

I think this is one of Iske’s most relevant points. Try not to get so focused on the exact parameters of success in your situation that you overlook other positive aspects that may arise even if you fail at your goal. Remember, Christopher Columbus “failed” at finding a passage to the Far East, but he discovered a whole new continent in the midst of his failure.

4. Realize you’re in good company.

Failing and making mistakes is part of being human. Some of our greatest heroes experienced hundreds of failures before succeeding. Doug Toft commented on my last post and gave us a great website that shows many examples of this. It’s pretty inspiring to realize the company that we’re in as flawed human beings. If these people became who they are because of their failures, sign me up to fail!

Brilliant.

Takeaway points: Trying to control for every eventuality so you don’t make a mistake will drive you crazy. Get a different perspective by realizing that failures are a part of the human condition and may even be necessary for us to learn and succeed. Side effects of failures can lead us to places of success we didn’t even know were possible.

What are your thoughts on failure?

My partner, Andrea, is very creative so when I have a problem or want to develop a new idea, I often seek out her opinion. This prompts a raucous round of brainstorming which inevitably produces a result that is not only satisfying, but energizing as well. We both feel victorious and Andrea often playfully raises her arms and shouts, “I am freaking brilliant!”

Want to know how to be freaking brilliant? Celebrate your failures and learn from them. There is a whole Institute devoted to this idea. Really. The Institute of Brilliant Failures “aims to promote a positive attitude toward failures.” The website lists dozens of famous and not-so-famous failures that resulted in new products, creative development ideas, and personal growth for individuals.

The founder of The Institute, Paul Iske, cites the creation of Viagra as an example of a brilliant failure. Viagra was originally developed to treat angina. It failed miserably. But it did have this side effect that seemed promising . . . You know the rest of the story.

Iske says that most people are too afraid of failure to change, thus we take fewer risks and innovation decreases. This doesn’t make sense to him. “Think about it,” he said in a 2011 Ted^x Talk, “If we knew what we were doing, we wouldn’t call it innovation.”

More sites are popping up now that are dedicated to learning from failures. Check out AdmittingFailure and FailFaire to see how nonprofits and businesses are publicly sharing their failures so that all can see what doesn’t work in order to make something that does.

I love this idea of brilliant failures. How many times have you stopped innovating in your personal life due to a failure? What would happen if we changed the culture of failure from something shameful to something to celebrate?

In our brainstorming sessions, most of the ideas Andrea and I come up with won’t or don’t work. They fail. But out of these failed creations spring “side effect” ideas that eventually lead us to the one that does work.

It’s freaking brilliant.

Takeaway points: Failure has a bad rap in our society. When something doesn’t work in your life, look for the side effects and see if a new idea or solution is in there.

What have you learned from your brilliant failures?

Next time: Letting go of control to make failures more brilliant.

If you liked this post, you may also want to read Falling Flat with a Thud and Choosing to Expand.

On January 15, 2009, he was flying on US Airways flight 1549 to Charlotte, North Carolina. Less than three minutes into the flight, the pilot cut the engines and told his passengers to brace for impact.

Put yourself on that plane. What would you think about? Here are the gifts passenger Ric Elias found in those seconds before the plane crash-landed into the Hudson River.

Takeaway points: Life is short. We hear that all the time and, somewhere inside, we know it to be true. But how do we live life fully? Look for gifts even in the worst of times.

How do you keep perspective in your life so you can truly enjoy the moment, relationships, and love?