Resiliency For Tough Times

Resiliency is “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” It’s something we can all use more of, especially in these tough times. It’s good to be reminded, as Robert Schuller wrote as the title of one his books, “Tough Times Never Last, But Tough People Do.”

There are two movies I recommend you watch that provide inspirational lessons in resiliency. Both these movies are based on true stories.

The first is 127 Hours about Aron Ralston. You may not know his name but you certainly know the gist of his story.

Ralston was exploring the very narrow Bluejohn Canyon in Utah. In many places, he could only get through by walking sideways or crawling under and over boulders.

At one point, a boulder that was lodged between the canyon walls blocked his path. There wasn’t much room beneath the boulder, so Aron climbed over it. As he did so, the boulder slipped, trapping his right arm between the wall and the boulder. 5 days later, out of food and water, Aron cut off his right forearm to free himself.

How can someone be so cool, especially when one’s life is at stake? I lose my cool when I have to wait in line, when the Internet goes down or when I have to wait longer than I think I should for a table in a restaurant.

Certainly Aron experienced times of terror and despair, but he never let panic overwhelm him. In short, he demonstrated the toughness that is the hallmark of resiliency (if you’re interested in the true story, watch the Dateline television show that accompanies Aron back to the very canyon where he almost died: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyPBTblkzBI

The second movie I recommend is Apollo 13 with the famous line uttered by Jim Lovell (played by Tom Hanks), “Houston, we have a problem.”

In reality, however, that’s not what Lovell said. The actual flight transcripts indicate that he really said, “Houston, we had a problem.” It occurred to me that the difference between “have” and “had” is what resiliency is all about. It’s what got Ralston out of that canyon and the crew of Apollo 13 home alive. That one word represents a significant transformation in thinking.

We have a problem suggests being stuck in the past. We had a problem indicates that Lovell has already moved past the event and is concerning himself with the next problem that this past problem has presented him with. He is staying in the present moment, dealing as creatively as he can with life as it comes to him.

You see, by the time we recognize that we have a problem, the problem has already passed. We now have another problem which, when solved, will simply lead to another problem in a never ending series.

Both Aron Ralston and the crew of Apollo 13 didn’t have a problem. They had a problem. Now they’ve got another one. And once that one is solved, there will be another. Each solved problem is simply the doorway to another. That is the nature of life in these movies. That is the nature of life.

Resiliency is the willingness (and it requires will) to look for creative solutions to one’s predicament rather than bemoaning the predicament itself. Resiliency requires staying present to life as it presents itself and confronting the challenge in front of us, not being stuck with the problems behind us.

There’s another scene in Apollo 13 that captures this distinction.

Lovell’s fellow astronauts Fred Haise and Jack Swigert get into a shouting match, blaming one another for the situation they are in. Lovell (at least in the movie if not in reality) stops their argument by admonishing, “We’re not doing this, gentlemen. We're not going to go bouncing off the walls for ten minutes, 'cause we're just going to end up back here with the same problems!”

Being resilient requires transforming our thinking from “have a problem” to “had a problem.” It is the recognition that our lives are nothing but a series of “had” problems. Resiliency is dealing with these as they come and the recognition that “bouncing off the walls for ten minutes,” will merely leave us in the same place complaining about our fate. In fact, it’s the “bouncing off the walls” that makes it impossible to see creative solutions.

Resiliency For Tough Times

Resiliency is “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” It’s something we can all use more of, especially in these tough times. It’s good to be reminded, as Robert Schuller wrote as the title of one his books, “Tough Times Never Last, But Tough People Do.”

There are two movies I recommend you watch that provide inspirational lessons in resiliency. Both these movies are based on true stories.

The first is 127 Hours about Aron Ralston. You may not know his name but you certainly know the gist of his story.

Ralston was exploring the very narrow Bluejohn Canyon in Utah. In many places, he could only get through by walking sideways or crawling under and over boulders.

At one point, a boulder that was lodged between the canyon walls blocked his path. There wasn’t much room beneath the boulder, so Aron climbed over it. As he did so, the boulder slipped, trapping his right arm between the wall and the boulder. 5 days later, out of food and water, Aron cut off his right forearm to free himself.

How can someone be so cool, especially when one’s life is at stake? I lose my cool when I have to wait in line, when the Internet goes down or when I have to wait longer than I think I should for a table in a restaurant.

Certainly Aron experienced times of terror and despair, but he never let panic overwhelm him. In short, he demonstrated the toughness that is the hallmark of resiliency (if you’re interested in the true story, watch the Dateline television show that accompanies Aron back to the very canyon where he almost died:

The second movie I recommend is Apollo 13 with the famous line uttered by Jim Lovell (played by Tom Hanks), “Houston, we have a problem.”

In reality, however, that’s not what Lovell said. The actual flight transcripts indicate that he really said, “Houston, we had a problem.” It occurred to me that the difference between “have” and “had” is what resiliency is all about. It’s what got Ralston out of that canyon and the crew of Apollo 13 home alive. That one word represents a significant transformation in thinking.

We have a problem suggests being stuck in the past. We had a problem indicates that Lovell has already moved past the event and is concerning himself with the next problem that this past problem has presented him with. He is staying in the present moment, dealing as creatively as he can with life as it comes to him.

You see, by the time we recognize that we have a problem, the problem has already passed. We now have another problem which, when solved, will simply lead to another problem in a never ending series.

Both Aron Ralston and the crew of Apollo 13 didn’t have a problem. They had a problem. Now they’ve got another one. And once that one is solved, there will be another. Each solved problem is simply the doorway to another. That is the nature of life in these movies. That is the nature of life.

Resiliency is the willingness (and it requires will) to look for creative solutions to one’s predicament rather than bemoaning the predicament itself. Resiliency requires staying present to life as it presents itself and confronting the challenge in front of us, not being stuck with the problems behind us.

There’s another scene in Apollo 13 that captures this distinction.

Lovell’s fellow astronauts Fred Haise and Jack Swigert get into a shouting match, blaming one another for the situation they are in. Lovell (at least in the movie if not in reality) stops their argument by admonishing, “We’re not doing this, gentlemen. We're not going to go bouncing off the walls for ten minutes, 'cause we're just going to end up back here with the same problems!”

Being resilient requires transforming our thinking from “have a problem” to “had a problem.” It is the recognition that our lives are nothing but a series of “had” problems. Resiliency is dealing with these as they come and the recognition that “bouncing off the walls for ten minutes,” will merely leave us in the same place complaining about our fate. In fact, it’s the “bouncing off the walls” that makes it impossible to see creative solutions.    

How “Casualties of War” and Steve Jobs Changed My Life

Have you seen the movie “Casualties Of War?” Based on a true story, the film challenges us to consider the choices we make in life.  

Michael J. Fox plays Max Eriksson, a member of a squad of 6 men out on patrol during the Vietnam War. Sean Penn plays Sergeant Tony Meserve the leader of the squad.

The squad has, lately, seen a lot of combat and Meserve decides that they are entitled to some “recreation.” While on their next patrol, the squad (in spite of Eriksson’s protests and his refusal to participate) kidnaps and rapes a Vietnamese girl. Eriksson ultimately reports his comrades to the authorities who, rather than taking immediate action, are at first indifferent and then openly hostile towards Eriksson.

Learning that Eriksson has revealed details of the rape to his superiors, one of the members of the squad confronts him with the question as to why he would turn them in. After all, he says, we may die at any moment in the war. What difference does it make what we do?

Eriksson’s turns this thinking on its head by declaring that precisely because they may die at any moment the choices they make at every moment are critically important.

This choice between these two views of the world is actually one we make every day although we may not always be present to it. Some believe that it doesn’t make any difference what we do since few of us will be remembered for very long after we die for what we did or who we were. Others believe that our actions have a profound impact on current and future generations whether we are personally remembered or not.

Steve Jobs had something to say about this when he gave the commencement address at Stanford University in 2005. He had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the year before he gave this talk (the same cancer that has now caused him to step down from his day to day responsibilities at Apple) and he ended his remarks with a reflection on mortality.

Like every commencement speaker before him, Jobs called on the graduates to be true to themselves because “time is limited.” Jobs added that, “I can now say this with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept”

Jobs admonished the graduates to ask themselves a question: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today? And whenever the answer has been “no” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something” (you can view his talk on youtube at ).

I was impacted by Jobs’ comments and, as a result, I’ve taken on a new practice.

Every morning, I create my schedule for the day on my computer screen and, usually, I’m in a hurry to complete this planning and get to work.

Now, however, just before I create my schedule, I pause and take a moment to notice the very obvious fact that I’m looking at a blank page and that whatever I put on that schedule represents the contribution I’m going to make to life that day. This may sound grandiose, but it’s exactly the thought I have.

Some activities I put on that schedule will be dictated by the demands of others while some activities will be chosen by me. But in either case, my approach to those activities will either make a difference or will just be another “to do” to be gotten out of the way as quickly as possible.

I get to choose. Will what I’m about to do make any difference or will it not?

As the Grail Knight advises in the movie, Indiana Jones and The Temple Of Doom, "choose wisely."

Good advice. 

Make A Difference Right Here and Right Now

The other day, I had lunch with a friend at a restaurant near the state Capitol building in Olympia, Washington and, afterwards, decided to visit the nearby library. I was searching through the library’s computer catalog when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Can you help me find the children’s books?” I turned to see that the speaker was an adorable girl of about 7 who, standing beside me, was the same height as I was sitting down. She clutched a book tightly to her chest as though it might be snatched away at any moment. Her voice had the plaintive quality of a child looking for her mommy instead of a book.

I don’t know why she had chosen me to ask for help. In fact, I was one of the worst people for her to ask since this was a library I was visiting for the first time. But I desperately wanted to help her.

I swiveled in my chair and saw a librarian seated behind a desk no more than 10 feet away.

“I don’t know where the children’s section is,” I said. “But that lady over there can help you.” I pointed to the librarian and watched as the girl walked tentatively over and stood beside the librarian without speaking, waiting to be noticed. I was about to walk over when the librarian saw the girl, heard her request and escorted her to the children’s section. Satisfied that the girl had been helped, I returned to the computer catalog.

I was surprised at how good I felt about doing something to make a difference for that girl.

This encounter reminded me of the time my wife Carol and I were returning from Flagstaff, Arizona to our home in the little town of Strawberry about 60 miles from Flagstaff and 2 hours north of Phoenix.

It was raining hard as we approached Strawberry and I slowed to about 35 miles an hour because of the slick highway pavement. Suddenly, we saw a little dog that looked like some variety of Terrier, dripping water off its fur and sniffing the grass by the opposite side of the road from where we were driving.

We made a u-turn, pulled up beside the dog and Carol opened the passenger side door. To our surprise, without hesitation, the dog jumped into Carol’s lap as though relieved to be out of the rain.

We drove home and, once inside, inspected the dog’s collar and called the owner who couldn’t have been more grateful or relieved. She and a friend had been camping all day and had become separated from their dog. After searching for hours, they gave up and drove home to Phoenix, devastated that they had been forced to desert their dog.

The next day, they drove up to reclaim the dog and brought us flowers, a picture of the dog and their thanks, thanks, thanks.

Here’s the reason I’m relaying these stories: In my life, I’ve given money to organizations representing people I’ll never meet and marched for causes on behalf of people who have no idea who I am (nor I they). I had only a slight sense that I was making a difference.

But when I helped that little girl and rescued that dog, there was no question about the difference I was making. I will remember those two encounters (and a few others like them) for the rest of my life.

While still doing what I can to help people who aren’t in my daily life, I realize that I’ve been more concerned about the people I will never meet than the people I meet every day. I’ve been grumpy when I could have been smiling. Complaining when I could have been grateful. Being busy when a few minutes conversation could have made a big difference.

I’m going to create more memories like I now have about that little girl and that little dog by living inside the question, “How can I help?”