The thing with resilience; it doesn't look very resilient when you're in the middle of it.
- Dr Jessica Moore-Jones

- 7 days ago
- 2 min read

Most Australians will have heard the story by now of the 13 year old boy who, having failed his swimming medallion just weeks before, swam for 4 hours in rough open ocean to get help for his stranded family. And THEN ran 2km to a phone to call emergency services.
He talks about having to think about Thomas the Tank engine a few times on the journey, first when his kayak started leaking and he had to abandon it, then when he realised his life jacket was making it impossible to move forward, so he abandoned that too. He needed to not think negative thoughts or about whether if he didn't make it, his mother and two siblings would also likely perish, and so he focused on things that made him happy. And kept swimming.
The family was rescued from open waters, clinging to their inflatable kayaks, just as darkness fell.
*Eeek, I think I have something in my eye... Momentary pause....*
And while this story is obviously about the extremes of resilience being tested, I think it opens a lovely conversation about resilience not looking very resilient when you're in the middle of it.
Remember, this boy had just recently failed to swim 400m to pass his Bronze Medallion. He kept having to adapt his approach, and give up safety options along the way. He cried, he fell over on the beach, his head went under a number of times. And yet, he did what needed doing.
When the world is closing in, resilience feels a LOT like failing. It feels messy. Resilience doesn't look resilient. It often includes tears (the messy sort, that involves snot). You're often thinking "I can't do this" and "I'm going to stop" and "this isn't fair".
And all those things can be true, AND you can still be resilient.
Resilience is not stoicism. It rarely looks calm from the inside, and it often feels like you're never going to see dry land again.
But that's the thing with resilience; you simply don't know how much you have, until you're out the other side.
So if you're in the thick of things right now, the waves pushing you under and the life jacket far behind; dry land IS out there. And no matter how un-resilient you feel right now, how unflattering keeping head above water looks, with the looking back and seeing what you achieved, you'll know you were a hero too.
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