re·sil·ience [ri-zil-yuhns, -zil-ee-uhns] noun
1. the power or ability to return to the original form, position,etc., after being bent, compressed, or stretched; elasticity.
2. ability to recover readily from illness, depression,adversity, or the like; buoyancy.
So, why this story today? Because, recently, a blog reader asked me about resilience. How does one build resilience in herself? How does she exercise it? For a little while, I sat on that question, wondering if I had anything of insight to really offer. But then I remembered. I remembered how my heart wanted to spend the entire fall and winter of 2010 in my childhood bed with the covers drawn over my head, but how I got up every day and got us to the hospital, how I drove the highway back and forth between states to be a mom and a teacher and a daughter and a caregiver, how I strung together tasks and hours and days and weeks into something. How maybe I lost my buoyancy, how maybe I am not quite back into my original form, but that I am in a form of its own power, brought to me by the experience of staring down something I did not think I could do, something that wanted to conquer me, and conquering it instead.