Well here we are. . . Thanksgiving week. A pandemic rages on, many people are without work, or in some way, in the fight of their lives. Just a few days ago, I saw images of the Christmas tree placed in Rockefeller Center – it is the perfect tree for all of us this year: battered and worn, but still standing.
Though our plans have changed, Thanksgiving allows us the opportunity to pause and reflect with gratitude all that has occurred. Sigh.
As I reflect, I think I am most grateful for the resilience of my own person, family and community. I watch the kids wear masks without complaint, as we all adjust to the uncertainty around us. Planning is done one week at a time. Life is without the usual outlets that provide us release and enjoyment. Yet, this year has also been filled with joy. We have learned so much about each other at a time when it was so important to do so.
So this week I pause in awe of our resilience.
Many years ago, I read a book by Andrew Zolli about resilience (it is entitled as such). He contrasts resilience with our usual global conversations about sustainability, which is a word I now rarely use. Zolli writes,
As a society, we used to believe that we could out-engineer failure. In the 20th century, we believed that all problems had a solution. Human capacity leaped; Life spans went from 55 to 80. We mastered the atom. We electrified the planet. We believed that we were in control, but time would eventually prove us wrong: hurricanes, typhoons, flood, economic collapse, terrorism, corruption – have taught us difficult lessons.
Andrew Zolli, Resilience
As a result, Zolli says that our humility is moving us from risk mitigation to risk adaptation. We cannot steer around what we do not know. Rather, we need systems that fail gracefully – that doesn’t bring down everything else when they inevitably fail. Zolli’s conclusion is based on the premise that failure is normal, healthy, and necessary for all complex structures.
And while I agree with this, we must recognize that life does not consist of things or systems – it consists of relationships, which one could argue are more complex than any structure.
How do we prepare for the unexpected in our relationships? With our significant others? With friends? . . . With God?
My gratitude this year is that my life and my community have shown an increased capacity for resilience. I don’t want sustainability, nor do I want what I once had before the pandemic. Though I would not wish the path I have taken on anyone else, I am grateful for all that has been unsustainable, because we have found there is something much better in the resilience.