Lighten Up when the Power Fails

Resilience 101

Front yard-Heavy wet snowfall. cedars surrender to snow load. Indoors - powerless

It's been a tough couple of weeks along the Pacific Coast and into the High Sierra. Up here on the petticoats of Lake Tahoe, we're accustomed to getting all manner of weather – from parched fire-ready hillsides to brutal winds, rain, and snow that measure in feet instead of inches. We get to marvel at the unleashed power of Mother Nature at her best and worst. Most often, our winter is like owning a piece of property in a snow globe. Fat flakes float gently from banks of clouds, dropping enough to let us strap on a pair of snowshoes and trek streets that will remain unplowed for days – marooned on an island of quiet beauty.

Our recent round of weather delivered a different experience. We've had weeks of one storm after another, each bringing fierce rain, wind, and knee-high snow. The crowning weather-related event was the loss of power throughout our mostly-rural communities. Within an hour, our forested neighborhoods rumbled with the sound of generators – kicking in to provide light and heat for … well, no one knew how long. Trips to the grocery store just a few miles down a steep and winding road became a fool's errand. When we ran out of gas for the generator, we siphoned it from our sedan.

As a backup, I pulled out our battery-powered lamps and candles, and flashlights because a generator only lasts so long as the gas that's in it -  gas that's only available down the icy road covered in snow.

I'd stacked wood around our property but discovered that Father Time had conspired with Mother Nature, and the protective covers I'd used disintegrated due to sun, rain, snow, and time. Wet logs, most cut too long to fit into our woodstove. Finally, after managing day one, we sat down to escape with a little nighttime TV via a satellite dish intended for just such emergencies (Cable TV and Internet were out). However, the dish (being a dish) was filled with snow and therefore received no signal.

Cooking had to be creative; dirty dishes awaited hot water and power, convincing our dogs it was okay to wander into the storm for their daily business failed (they're not stupid). And did I mention the mountain of snow that slid from the roof of my truck onto the front windshield and blinded me while trying to navigate the previously mentioned steep and winding, and narrow road to town?

It was not until power was restored and the snowplows hit our street that I realized I was in an uncharacteristic malaise. Days of stress and demands to be in 'survival mode' had buried my can-do optimism under a mound of snow. (Let me add here that I'm aware of way worse stressors that happen in daily life – but this was my personal moment of overload.) I was crabby and bummed.

As we walked our pups down a freshly-plowed road, I had a realization. I'd lost touch with one of my lifetime strengths – resiliency. Just the thought alone lifted my spirit. And a memory smacked me like a snowball. The first time I experienced the power of resiliency and took charge of my feelings.

I was in eighth grade. A vulnerable, risky age for a girl. For most of the year, I'd been taunted, teased, and chased by the very cool girls – a cheerleader and four other popular girls. They played tricks on me – stuffing my locker with embarrassing items and assembled a crowd (football players included) to watch me open it. I wanted nothing more than to melt into the tiled floor. I was afraid to be in school, walk home, go to gym class or visit the restroom. One day, while hiding behind a bush while the girls gathered to walk home together, I had a revelation. It was up to me to end the torture. I gathered all my courage and visited the vice principal – lodging my complaints and demanding he meet with me and the cool girls. In the protection of the VP,  I forcefully stood up to the smirking teens like a prosecuting lawyer. I pelted them with middle-school logic. I even made them laugh. It worked. I'd discovered resiliency.

Since that day, I've leveraged that trait to weather many storms. Now I wonder why this recent trial-by-weather delivered such a punch. It's not like me to fold. For clarity, here's a definition of resilience from the experts: "Resilience (or resiliency) is our ability to adapt and bounce back when things don't go as planned." And life provides us with many opportunities to practice this skill, right? Things don't go as planned. A dream didn't come true. Someone betrayed or misunderstood you. We feel bad, stuck. Overwhelmed by circular thoughts that keep replaying a hopeless situation.

So when the lightbulb finally switched on as the storm took a break, I used a tried and true technique that helps me talk to me! I envision another person – an imaginary friend who's bummed and stressed and sees no way out of a situation. She's wallowing in self-pity. Would I treat this friend in the same way I was treating myself? As a powerless victim of uncontrollable circumstances? No. I'd offer a new way to look at her circumstances – one that includes options and the promise of our tomorrows. Sunshine for my gloomy friend. So why did I not do that for myself? Lesson learned.

Resiliency helps us react to stressful events as a manager instead of as a victim. We acknowledge that change is an inherent part of the human condition. We don't have to be trapped in the 'now.' 

Shannon Suo, MD (double-boarded in family medicine and psychiatry), suggests another approach to tapping into resilience. "Some of the best ways to fill that tank include taking time to refuel by indulging in a pleasant, pleasurable activity; maybe a daily reflection on what we're grateful for, or picturing end goal beyond the immediate crisis."  

 Resiliency may not mend unwelcome developments, but it does give us a lifeline to another day and time. It gives us power.

So, I apologize to Mother Nature. Blaming her for a few stressful days was unfair. It wasn't her fault – or the fault of the power company or the guy who cut my firewood too long. I had a choice about how to handle those inconvenient challenges, and thankfully recalled that hour in eighth grade when I found resilience, put it in my tool kit, and pull it out when needed most.  

Resilience may not come naturally. But the skill can be learned and practiced. Check out this guide from the noted Mayo Clinic HERE.

****

Thanks for spending time with me – I value your attention and feedback. I wish you all a Happy Chinese New Year – the Year of the Rabbit! Talk back to me!

Here's an opportunity to grab a FREE mystery – Ebooks that are perfect for a cozy winter night, in front of the woodstove! Mine, The Song of Jackass Creek, is among them. (4.5+ stars on Amazon). Curl up with a cozy mystery HERE.

Check out my other passion – sculpting for bronze and my monumental project

.