The Road to Diamond, Day 143: Resilience

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April 20, 2025- Some 1,993 years ago, when His tormentors gave Him up for dead, those who rolled back the stone at the designated tomb of Jesus the Christ were astonished to find it empty. He had business to which to attend: His followers were in need of reassurance, encouragement. Only Christ could provide that impetus to resilience, and so He did.

Each of us, given what we are to do in this life, has a need for resilience, on many occasions. The first time most of us experience this is when learning how to walk. Falling doesn’t faze most infants. They instinctively know that falling is part of learning, and so they keep on, until able to take step after step, ideally to the cheers and hugs of loving family members.

As life goes on, either we accept failure as a means to learning, as we did when edging towards toddlerhood, or we take it as a sign of inadequacy. The former is a burnishing of a can-do mindset, a harbinger of future success. The latter may, if not corrected, become the spark of learned helplessness. I have experienced both, over the years. Guess which one felt better, and which one I embrace now.

Communities, and nations, can face the same choice. Debate can see a case made for either option. It is true that collective failure is less easily fixed than is that of individuals, but it is also true that an honest conversation and civil commitment, to what is actually best for the community as a whole, can lead to reconciliation and true social progress-of the kind that doesn’t play favourites or institutionalize scapegoats.

We are at a crossroads, as a nation. Can we be discerning enough to take the best ideas of social progress and the best ideas of social conservatism, and reconcile the differences between the two? National survival has always been dependent on finding a balance.

The Realization Road

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December 3, 2021- The three ten-year old girls giggled and smiled at me, whispering, while going about their work, in the minutes before it was time for the class to be dismissed for lunch. This has been part and parcel of many preteens’ growing into a world where they must size up even those furthest from them in age, getting a sense of whether theirs is a safe environment or their guard needs to be raised up. I have seen it for nearly five decades now.

It was more uncertain, when I was younger-and in the years before I was married. Throughout, however, my main concern with all students has been to keep them focused on acquiring thinking skills and making sense of what they might want to do as adults. The process starts, really, when a person masters mobility, then speech. However nebulous it seems to both the little one and to those around her/him-basic interests and skills can be ascertained from the child’s play habits and choice of activities. My son was interested in motorized earth movers, even before his dinosaur phase. His 4-year-old second cousin alternates between building things and driving his Tonka truck around. Another second cousin is strictly into his drivable toy truck. The girl second cousins have a wide range of interests, from chess and the ecology of construction work (an eight-year-old) to ecofriendly farming practices (a ten-year-old).

The students with whom I worked today are well-spoken, very much into independent learning and still keep the spunkiness of preteens. They are at once capable of handling a lot more responsibility than many of us Boomers were given at their age and remain very much in need of respectfully offered adult supervision. There will always be a need for this last, no matter how empowered and enlightened a person is in middle childhood, or adolescence, for that matter.

On this fifth day of “Seventy-One and Counting”, I felt equally valued by both the kids and by the mostly contemporary adults with whom I enjoyed a pre-Christmas Dinner, at the American Legion Post. It was our first such dinner in two years, and all the stops were pulled out. The Prime Rib and fixings were well-prepared by a seasoned chef and her 22-year-old sous chef. The pianist played tunes designed for relaxation and the sometimes raucous conversation just added to the enjoyment of the evening.

I can envision a similar gathering, maybe sixty years hence, of those who sat in the classroom today, maybe not under the same auspices, but in celebration of their camaraderie and a shared joie de vivre.

May they long walk the Realization Road.